•iARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CAUFORNIA 

S. 


PR 

3+33 

Hate  tfutUcatfona  /-- 

Ji?Sf 


LITTLE,    BROWN    AND    C 

113,  Washington  Street,  Boston. 


BRITISH  POETS.  —  A  complete  Collection  of  the  British 
Poets,  from  Chaucer  to  Wordsworth ;  embracing  the 
whole  Works  of  the  most  distinguished  Authors,  with 
Selections  from  the  Minor  Poets ;  accompanied  with  Bio- 
graphical, Historical,  and  Critical  Notices.  Edited  by 
F.  J.  Child,  Boylston  Professor  of  Hhetoric  and  Oratory 
in  Harvard  College. 

The  size  and  style  of  the  volumes  are  those  of  PICKERING'S  ALDINE 
POETS,  and  such  of  the  works  of  that  edition  as  fall  entirely  within  the 
plan  of  the  present  collection  will  be  embodied  hi  it.  Each  separate 
work  is  sold  by  itself,  and  the  price  of  each  volume  is  75  cents.  —  The 
following  volumes  are  now  ready :  — 

MILTON 3  vols. 

PARNELL    .......    1  vol. 


BUTLER 2  vols. 

CHURCHILL 3  vols. 

COLLINS 1  vol. 

COWPER 3  vols. 

DRTDEN 5  vols. 

GOLDSMITH     ....  1  vol. 

GRAY 1  vol. 


POPE 3  vols. 

PRIOR 2  vols. 

THOMSON 2  vols. 

SWIFT 3  vols. 

YOUNG 2  vols. 


"  It  is  by  far  the  best  edition  of  these  poets  that  has  ever  been  is- 
sued hi  this  country ;  fully  equal  to  the  English,  of  which  they  are  an 
exact  reprint,  and  at  just  one  half  the  cost."  —  Boston  Alias. 

"  We  cannot  too  warmly  commend  the  series  to  our  readers."  — 
South  Literary  Oaiette. 

"  The  typography  of  those  already  published  is  beautiful.  Few 
English  books  are  more  charming  to  the  eye.  This  enterprise  is  an 

honor  to  the  American  press We  do  not  know  any  other  edition 

of  the  English  Poets  which  combine  so  many  excellences."  —  Biblio- 
theca  Sacra. 

"This  series  of 'the  British  Poets  is  the  best  edition  we  have  ever 
seen."  —  Louisville  Journal. 

"  We  regard  it  as  the  most  beautiful  and  convenient  library  edition 
of  the  British  Poets  yet  published."'  —  Philadelphia  Evening  Bul- 
letin. 

*'  We  have  before  alluded  to  this  excellent  publishing  enterprise  in 
terms  of  hearty  commendation.  '1 — New  York  Tribune. 


HUME'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  From  the  latest 
London  trade-edition,  reprinted  on  large  type  to  correspond 
with  the  London  edition  of  Macaulay's  History.  6  vols. 
8vo,  cloth.  $9. 

"  These  volumes  are  honorable  to  the  taste,  enterprise,  and  liberality 
of  the  publishers,  aud  creditable  to  the  country."  —  Boston  Jltlas. 

"  A  finer  library  edition  of  the  great  historian  of  England  we  have 
never  seen."  —  JVew  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

ENCYCLOPAEDIA  BRITANNICA.  Eighth  edition,  re- 
vised, enlarged,  and  brought  up  to  the  present  time. 
Edited  by  Thomas  Stewart  Traill,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  E., 
Professor  of  Medical  Jurisprudence  in  the  University  of 
Edinburgh.  With  upwards  of  five  hundred  engravings 
on  steel,  and  many  thousands  on  wood.  To  be  comprised 
in  21  vols.  4  to.  Vols.  I.  II.  and  III.  now  ready.  Cloth. 
$5.50  per  volume. 

*#*  This  edition  has  undergone  careful  revision  and  extensive  alte- 
rations, so  as  to  accommodate  it  to  the  improved  taste  and  advanced 
intelligence  of  the  times.  The  editor  has  secured  the  co-operation  of 
the  most  eminent  living  authors,  who  have  contributed  treatises  in  the 
various  departments  of  Science,  Literature,  the  Arts,  Manufactures, 
Commerce,  Statistics,  and  General  Knowledge,  to  supersede  those  now 
rendered  obsolete  by  the  progress  of  discovery,  improvements  in  the 
arts,  or  the  general  advancement  of  society. 

MEMOIRS  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF  FRAN- 
CIS HORNER,  M.P.  Edited  by  his  Brother,  Leonard 
Horner,  Esq.,  F.R.S.  2  vols.  8vo,  cloth.  $4.50. 

MACKINTOSH'S  LIFE.  —  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  the 
Right  Honorable  Sir  James  Mackintosh.  Edited  by  his 

-  Son,  Robert  James  Mackintosh.  From  the  second  London 
edition.  Portrait.  2  vols.  8vo,  cloth.  $4.60. 

"  More  choice,  indeed,  than  the  English  edition,  and  quite  worthy 
of  a  book  so  agreeable  and  popular."  —  Daily  Advertiser. 

WILKINSON'S  ANCIENT  EGYPTIANS.  — A  Popular 
Account  of  the  Ancient  Egyptians.  Revised  and  abridged 
from  his  larger  \vork.  By  Sir  J.  Gardner  Wilkinson. 
Illustrated  with  five  hundred  wood-cuts.  2  vols.  post  8vo, 
doth.  $3. 

CARTAPHILUS.  —  Chronicles  selected  from  the  Originals 
of  Cartaphilus,  the  Wandering  Jew,  embracing  a  period  of 
nearly  six  centuries.  Now  first  revealed  to  and  edited 
by  David  Hoffman.  Vols.  I.  and  II.  8vo,  cloth.  $5 
per  vol.  (Vol.  III.  in  press.) 

"  Mr.  Hoffman  has  succeeded  in  producing  a  volume  of  intense 
interest."  —  English  Review. 


HEBER'S  (BISHOP)  POETICAL  WORKS.  Uniform 
with  the  Aldine  Poets.  Portrait.  Fifth  edition.  Fools- 
cap 8vo,  cloth.  $1.25. 

RAMSHORN'S  LATIN  SYNONYMES.  —  Dictionary  of 
Latin  Synonymes.  For  the  use  of  Schools  and  Private 
Students.  With  a  complete  Index.  By  Lewis  Ramshorn. 
Translated  from  the  German  by  Francis  Lieber.  New 
edition.  1  vol.  12mo,  half  morocco.  $1. 

WINTHROP'S  HISTORY  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.— 
History  of  New  England,  from  1630  to  1649.  By  John 
Winthrop,  first  Governor  of  the  Colony  of  the  Massachu- 
setts Bay.  From  his  original  manuscript.  With  Notes  by 
James  Savage.  New  edition.  2  vols.  8vo,  cloth.  $4.50. 

NORTON'S  GENUINENESS  OF  THE  GOSPELS.— 
Evidences  of  the  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels.  By  An- 
drews Norton.  Second  edition.  3  vols.  8vo,  cloth.  $5. 

NORTON'S  TRACTS  ON  CHRISTIANITY.  —  Tracts 
concerning  Christianity.  By  Andrews  Norton.  1  vol. 
8vo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

ELIOT'S  HISTORY  OF  LIBERTY.— History  of  Liberty. 
Part  I. :  The  Ancient  Romans.  Part  II. :  The  Early 
Christians.  By  Samuel  Eliot.  4  vols.  12mo,  cloth.  $5. 

BANCROFT'S  HISTORY.  —  History  of  the  United  States. 
Vols.  IV.  and  V.,  being  vols.  I.  and  II.  of  the  History  of 
the  Revolution.  By  Hon.  George  Bancroft.  8vo,  cloth. 

"  His  work  is  and  must  be  the  standard  history  of  the  country,  and 
as  such  should  reach  every  family,  and  be  studied  by  every  person 
who  would  be  acquainted  with  the  events  of  our  past  existence."  — 
JVeic  Haven  Journal. 

"  The  further  this  work  proceeds,  the  more  do  we  feel  that  it  must 
take  its  place  as  an  essentially  .satisfactory  History  of  the  United 
States."  — London  Athenaum. 

SPARKS'S  CORRESPONDENCE  OF  THE  REVOLU- 
TION. Being  Letters  from  Eminent  Men  to  George 
Washington,  from  the  Time  of  his  taking  Command  of 
the  American  Army  to  the  End  of  his  Life.  Edited  by 
Jared  Sparks.  4  vols.  8vo,  cloth,  $9  ;  royal  8vo,  $12. 

SOCIAL  THEORIES.  —  Considerations  on  some  Recent 
Social  Theories.  16mo,  cloth.  75  cts. 

PARKER'S  THEISM.  —  Sermons  of  Theism,  Atheism, 
and  the  Popular  Theology.  By  Theodore  Parker.  1  vol. 
12mo,  cloth.  $1.25. 


THE  BREUGHEL  BROTHERS.  Translated  from  the 
German  of  the  Baron  Von  Sternberg.  By  Dr.  G.  Henry 
Lodge.  Illustrated  by  Billings.  Small  4to,  cloth.  $2. 


MISCELLANEOUS    WORKS    IN     PRESS. 

BACON'S  WORKS.  —  The  Works  of  Francis,  Lord  Bacon. 
From  the  complete  English  edition,  by  Basil  Montague. 
12  vols.  8vo. 

PLUTARCH'S  LIVES.  "  Partly  from  Dryden's  Transla- 
tion, and  partly  from  other  hands.  The  whole  carefully 
revised  and  corrected.  With  some  Original  Translations 
by  the  editor,  A.  H.  Clough,  Esq.,  late  Fellow  of  Oriel 
College,  Oxford.  5  vols.  8vo. 

HUME'S  PHILOSOPHICAL  WORKS.  —  The  Philoso- 
phical Writings  of  David  Hume.  4  vols.  8vo. 

NORTON'S  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  GOSPELS.— 
A  Translation  of  the  Four  Gospels.  With  Notes.  By 
Andrews  Norton.  2  vols.  8vo. 

PIERCE'S  MECHANICS.  — A  Treatise  on  Analytic  Me- 
chanics. By  Benjamin  Pierce,  LL.D.,  Perkins  Professor 
of  Astronomy  and  Mathematics  in  Harvard  University. 

1  vol.  4to. 

DON  QUIXOTE.  Translated  from  the  Spanish  by  Mot- 
teux.  With  a  Life  of  the  Author,  and  copious  Notes. 
By  J.  G.  Lockhart.  4  vols.  12mo. 

ADAMS'S  WORKS.  —  Life  and  Works  of  John  Adams, 
second  President  of  the  United  States.  Edited  by  his 
Grandson,  Charles  Francis  Adams.  Vols.  I.  and  X. 

AMES'S  LIFE  AND  WORKS.  —  The  Life  and  Works 
of  Fisher  Ames.  Edited  by  his  Son,  Seth  Ames,  Esq. 

2  vols.  8vo. 

LYELL'S  MANUAL  OF  GEOLOGY.  New  edition.— 
Manual  of  Elementary  Geology ;  or,  the  Ancient  Changes 
of  the  Earth  and  its  Inhabitants,  as  illustrated  by  Geolo- 
gical Monuments.  By  Sir  Charles  Lyell.  Fifth  and 
entirely  revised  edition.  Illustrated  with  maps,  plates, 
and  wood-cuts.  8vo,  cloth.  (Nearly  ready.) 


TUB 


POETICAL  WOEKS 


WILLIAM   FALCONER. 


WITH  A  LIFE, 
BY  EEV.  JOHN  MITFORD. 


BOSTON: 
LITTLE,    BROWN    AND    COMPANY. 

NEW   YORK : 

EVANS     AND     DICKERSON. 

PHILADELPHIA  : 

,     GEAMBO     AND     COMPANY. 

M.DCCC.LIV. 


CAMBRIDGE: 

PRINTED    BY  A  I,  LEX     AND    FARNUAM. 


STEREOTYPED   BY   STONE   AND   SMART. 


SIR  NICHOLAS  HARRIS  NICOLAS,  K.  C.  M.  G. 


THIS   EDITION   OF 


FALCONER'S    POEMS 


WITH  EVERT  FRIENDLY  FEEL I X  G 


INSCRIBED. 


SONNET. 

OH  !  thou  storm-beaten  Harp !  whom  erst  the  ware, 

As  in  despite  flung  from  the  greedy  sea, 

When  the  ship -foundering  tempest  hung  on  theer 

Rock-built  Colonna !  —  Mockery  to  save ; 

While  the  Mosambique,  hungry  as  the  grave, 

Howl'd  o'er  the  midnight  surges  for  his  prey. 

So  are  they  gone,  each  favouring  deity, 

And  not  a  conch  is  sounding  from  the  cave, 

Of  the  god-peopled  ocean !  —  Hark,  the  strain, 

That  won  the  gentle  dolphin  tg  display 

Congenial  love,  and  far  from  death  his  prey 

Bear  o'er  the  charmed  billow,  -r-  Ah !  in  vain,. 

Tuneful  Arion !  is  thy  dying  lay 

Along  the  silver  waters  heard  again. 

J.    MlTFORD. 

'Benhall,  June  1,  1836. 


CONTENTS. 


THE    SHIPWKECK. 

Page 
INTRODUCTION * .      '.       .5 

FIRST  CANTO. 

Character  of  Albert 18 

Character  of  Rodmond  ' 19 

Character  of  Arion 21 

Character  of  Palemon 22 

Description  of  Noon  during  a  Calm         .        .        .        .26 

Palemon's  History 27 

Description  of  a  Sun-set  in  the  Archipelago  '.        .        .38 
Description  of  Morning    .        .        ...        .        .        .41 

Description  of  the  Ship,  as  seen  by  the  Inhabitants  of 
Candia,  on  her  leaving  the  Harbour    .        .        .        .42 

SECOND  CANTO. 

Description  of  a  Water  Spout   .      .                ...  50 

Description  of  a  dying  Dolphin 52 

Description  of  a  threatening  Sky 54 

The  Squall 55 

Ship  driven  out  of  her  Course 58 

Portentous  Sun-set 59 

Different  Opinions  of  the  Officers 60 


via  CONTEXTS. 

Four  Seamen  lost 62 

A  tremendous  Sea  shipped C6 

The  Well  sounded 67 

Guns  thrown  overboard 69 

Speeches  of  the  Master  and  his  Mates,  on  their  alarm- 
ing situation 72 

Albert's  Exhortation 79 

Mizzen-mast  cut  away 84 

THIRD  CANTO. 

Ship  put  before  the  Wind 92 

Falconera 94 

View  of  the  renowned  Cities  of  Greece   .        .        .        .96 

Scudding          .       -• 105 

Daybreak '    .        .        .106 

Lee  Shore—  St.  George's  Cliffs 107 

Land  of  Athens  appears 109 

Ship  laid  broadside  to  the  Shore Ill 

She  strikes .113 

Occasional  Elegy,  in  which  the  preceding  Narrative  is 
concluded 12-5 

Notes  and  Illustrations  to  the  Shipwreck       ....  129 

The  Demagogue 191 

A  Poem,  sacred  to  the  Memory  of  His   Royal  Highness 

Frederic  Prince  of  Wales 213 

Ode,  on  the  Duke  of  York's  second  Departure  from  Eng- 
land as  Rear  Admiral 219 

The  Fond  Lover.    A  Ballad 229 

On  the  uncommon  Scarcity  of  Poetry  in  the  Gentleman's 

Magazine  for  December,  1755 231 

Description  of  a  Ninety  Gun  Ship 233 


THE  LIFE  OF  WILLIAM  FALCOXER. 

BY   THE   REV.   JOHN   MITFOBD. 

WHEN  Anderson  published  the  life  of  Falconer, 
the  earliest  which  I  have  seen,  in  his  collection  of 
the  British  Poets,  he  possessed,*  as  he  confesses, 
no  memorials  of  the  birthplace  or  parentage  of  the 
poet:  and  when  Stanier  Clarke  was  preparing  his 
accurate  and  beautiful  edition,  he  was  equally  at  a 
loss  for  authentic  materials,  till  he  fortunately  met 
with  Governor  Hunter,  a  shipmate  of  the  poet's,  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  M' Arthur.  From  the  communi- 
cations of  this  gentleman,  and  from  subsequent  con- 
versations with  his  brother,  Lieutenant  Hunter,  of 
Greenwich  Hospital,  many  particulars  were  collected : 
Clarke's  Life  of  Falconer  has  justly  been  the  founda- 
tion on  which  Mr.  Chalmers's,  and  all  subsequent 
biographies  have  been  founded,  and,  with  some 
trifling  additions,  it  must  be  the  one  to  which  the 
present  will  look,  as  to  its  most  correct  authority. 

*  Anderson's  edition  of  the  British  Poets  was  published  in 
1795.  Mr.  Stanier  Clarke's  edition  of  the  Shipwreck,  in  1806. 


X  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

William  Falconer,  who  lias  given  lasting  dignity 
to  a  name  previously  obscure,  was  born  about  1736* 
or  1737,  and  was  the  son  of  a  poor  man  at  Edin- 
burgh, who  exercised  the  equally  unprofitable  trades 
of  barber  and  wig-maker  in  the  Netherbow,  and 
subsequently  of  grocer  :  he  got  no  more  by  weighing 
plums  than  by  shaving  polls :  he  was  also  a  fellow 
of  infinite  wit,  and  consequently  remained  "an 
honest  poor  man  "  as  long  as  he  lived. 

The  vocal  powers  of  the  family,  which  are  gener- 
ally shared  largely  by  the  female  members,  were 
in  this  instance  concentrated  in  the  person  of  our 
poet :  for  his  brothers  and  sisters  were  all  deaf  or 
dumb :  and  Captain  Hunter  verified  the  statement 
which  Falconer  had  made  to  him  of  this  unusual 
infliction,  when  he  met  two  of  the  family  in  the 
poor-house  at  Edinburgh,  where  they  continued 
until  death.  Falconer  received  some  education 
which  may  truly  be  called  Elementary,  at  the  school 
of  a  Mr.  "Webster,  for  the  establishment  was  broken 
up  in  1746,  when  he  was  only  beginning  Ms  gram- 
mar, and  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  he  went 
to  any  other.  The  following  account  of  him  is  from 
the  pen  of  Mr.  Forrest:  "I  well  remember  being 
greatly  surprised  when  he  gave  me  a  copy  of  the 
above  ode  (On  the  Prince  of  Wales)  as  his  own, 
for  he  had  been  always  reckoned  rather  a  dunce  at 

*  Mr.  J.  Forrest,  the  correspondent  of  Dr.  Anderson,  printed 
in  Campbell's  History  of  Scottish  Poetry,  4to.  1798,  p.  237. 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XI 

school ;  and,  young  as  I  then  was,  I  knew  that  a 
sailor's  life  was  not  favourable  for  the  cultivation  of 
letters.  I  never  to  my  recollection  saw  him  -since 
that  time,  indeed  I  fancy  he  never  was  here.  He 
was  a  lumpish,  heavy  looking  lad,  very  careless  and 
dirty  in  his  dress,  and  was  known  by  the  appellation 
of  Bubly-hash-Falconer ;  if  you  are  not  a  Scotch- 
man, this  name  Avill  not  convey  to  you  such  a  dis- 
tinct idea  of  his  looks  as  it  does  to  one  of  us."  *  He 
was  then  placed,  reluctantly  on  his  part,  on  board 
a  merchant  vessel  at  Leith,  and  there  he  served  his 
apprenticeship^ 

Forlorn  of  heart  and  by  severe  decree, 
Condemn'd  RELUCTANT  to  the  faithless  sea. 

One  of  his  biographers  J  asserts  that  the  affairs  of 
his  father,  which  were  never  prosperous,  fell  into 
great  derangement  on  the  death  of  his  wife,  a  woman 
whose  prudent  management  had  long  averted  the 
impending  crisis.  Subsequently  he  was  servant  to 
Archibald  Campbell,  the  author  of  Lexiphanes  and 
other  works,  who  was  purser  of  a  ship.  Dr.  Currie, 
in  his  edition  of  Burns,  §  says  "  that  his  master 

*  See  Al.  Campbell's  Introd.  of  Poetry  to  Scotland,  p.  237. 

t  See  Lives  of  the  Scottish  Poets,  1822,  3  vols.  Boys,  vol.  iii. 
p.  64.  Although  a  Life  of  Falconer  by  Irving  is  alluded  to  by 
his  biographers,  I  can  find  none  in  my  copy  of  Irving' s  Lives  of 
the  Scottish  Poets,  2  vols.  8vo.  Ed.  1804. 

t  For  an  account  of  Campbell,  see  Dyce's  Akenside,  p.  Ixxix. 
Hawkins's  Life  of  Johnson,  p.  347. 

§  See  Currie's  ed.  of  Burns,  vol.  ii.  p.  283, 2nd  ed. 


Xll  LIFE    OF    FALCONER. 

delighted  to  instruct  the  mind  of  the  young  seaman, 
and  boasted  of  his  tuition,  when  Falconer  subse- 
quently had  acquired  reputation."  It  is  supposed 
that  through  Campbell's  interest,  Falconer  was 
made  second  mate  of  a  vessel  employed  in  the  Le- 
vant trade,  (the  Britannia,)  which  was  shipwrecked 
in  her  passage  from  Alexandria  to  Venice,  near 
Cape  Colonna,  on  the  coast  of  Greece. 

The  exact  date  when  this  calamity  happened,  is 
not  known  ;  only  three  of  the  crew  survived  —  and 
the  distressing  event  made  such  an  impression  on 
Falconer's  mind,  as  to  become  the  subject  of  a 
poem ;  which  certainly  is  not,  as  Stanier  Clarke 
asserts,  one  of  the  finest  in  our  language,  and  is  far 
from  being  so ;  but  which  in  all  probability  will 
continue  to  be  a  favourite  with  a  certain  class  of 
readers,  and  therefore  preserve  its  station  among 
the  brotherhood  of  English  Poets. 

In  1751,  Falconer,  as  an  humble  sailor,  for  he 
had  not  risen  above  that  station,  revisited  his  native 
city,  and  commenced  his  poetical  career  with  an 
elegy  on  the  death  of  Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales; 
Gray  also  began  his,  with  an  Hymeneal  on  the 
marriage  of  the  same  illustrious  person.  He  fol- 
lowed up  his  first  step  on  the  poetic  ladder,  with 
others ;  and  sent  to  the  Gentleman's  Magazine, 
(which  has  been  the  kind  protector  of  all  youthful 
bards,  and  in  whose  venerable  courts  they  have 
imped  their  plumes,  and  tried  their  earliest  flights), 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XI11 

a  few  poems,  that  have  been  recognized  as  his  — 
as  *  The  Chaplain's  Petition  to  the  Lieutenants  in 
the  Ward  Room  —  The"  Description  of  a  Ninety- 
gun  Ship  —  and  some  lines  containing  a  very  unu- 
sual and  unnecessary  complaint — -  On  the  Uncommon 
Scarcity  of  Poets.  —  These  are  given  to  Falconer 
on  the  authority  of  Dr.  Clarke,  who  also  is  of  opinion, 
that  he  was  the  author  of  the  popular  song  —  Cease, 
rude  Boreas,!  —  and  another  copy  of  verses,  de- 
scriptive of  the  sentiments  and  abode  of  a  midship- 
man, has  been  ascribed  to  him  by  the  same  biog- 
rapher. 

Falconer  is  supposed  to  have  continued  in  the 
merchant  service  till  he  published  his  poem  of  the 
Shipwreck  in  1762,j  which  was  dedicated  to  the 

*  See  Gent.  Mag.  1758,  p.  371.  This  poem  Lieutenant  Hunter 
ascribed  to  Falconer;  the  other  two  are  given  on  the  belief  of 
S.  Clarke:  it  is  not  of  much  consequence  from  whom  such  lines 
as  the  following  proceeded :  — 

The  rough  rude  wind  which  stern  .Solus  sends. 

t  This  is  a  mere  conjecture  of  S.  Clarke's,  who  thinks  the 
song  to  be  either  Falconer's,  or  Captain  Thomson's,  the  well 
known  editor  of  several  works,  as  well  as  author  of  some  popu- 
lar naval  songs.  See  also  '  The  Songs  of  England  and  Scotland, 
2  vols.  1835,'  vol.  i.  p.  231,  and  Naval  Chronicle,  vol.  ii.  p.  233, 
where  the  song  is  decidedly  attributed  to  Falconer,  and  said  "  to 
have  been  long  given  with  singular  injustice  to  G.  Al.  Steevens." 

J  The  first  edition  was  printed  by  Miller  in  May,  1762.  Ship- 
wreck, in  Three  Cantos,  by  a  Sailor,  4to.  The  subsequent  edi- 
tions, says  Mr.  Alex.  Campbell,  are  by  many  deemed  inferior  to 
the  first,  as  what  it  has  gained  in  embellishment  it  has  lost  in 


XIV  LIFE    OF    FALCONER. 

Duke  of  York,  who  had  hoisted  his  flag  as  rear 
admiral  of  the  Blue,  on  board  the  Princess  Ame- 
lia, attached  to  the  fleet  under  Sir  Edward  Hawke. 
Clarke  says,  "  the  author  was  deservedly  called  a 
second  Homer."  The  Duke  of  York  kindly  patron- 
ized this  unlocked  for  production  of  a  sailor,  and 
advised  Falconer  to  leave  the  merchant  service  for 
the  Royal  Navy.  He  was  accordingly  rated  as  a 
midshipman  on  board  Sir  Edward  Hawke's  ship,  the 
Royal  George ;  perhaps  the  very  same  ship,  the 
funeral  knell  of  which  was  so  musically  tolled  by 
the  Bard  of  Olney.  In  his  last  visit  to  Scotland, 
after  the  publication  of  the  Shipwreck,  it  has  been 
said  that  Falconer  *  resided  at  the  Manse  of  Glads- 
true  poetical  beauty,  and  energy  of  expression.  "  There  is  fre- 
quently a  copious  simplicity,"  says  Dr.  Anderson,  "  in  his  first 
designs,  that  no  after  thought  or  labour  can  amend ;  an  irregular 
beauty,  that  every  alteration  must  efface." 

*  See  Lives  of  Scottish  Poets,  v.  iii.  p.  74.  The  same  writer 
also  observes  that  Falconer  was  on  board  the  Ramillies,  Captain 
Taylor,  with  Admiral  Bressau's  squadron,  Dec.  1760,  was  ship- 
wrecked, coming  up  the  channel,  and  out  of  a  crew  of  734  men, 
only  Falconer  and  twenty-three  others  escaped.  These  circum- 
stances are  not  in  Dr.  Clarke's  narrative.  It  was  on  this  wreck 
of  the  Ramillies,  and  not  of  the  Britannia,  that  this  biographer 
supposes  the  poem  to  be  founded:  vide  Lives,  v.  iii.  p.  70.  I 
shall  give  his  argument  in  his  own  words,  observing  that  he  is 
the  only  biographer  of  Falconer  who  alludes  to  the  poet  being  on 
board  the  Ramillies;  nor  does  Dr.  Clarke  assign  the  poem  in 
Gent.  Mag.  dated  Ramillies,  B.  of  Biscay,  25th  Nov.  1706,  to  Fal- 
coner, which  the  present  writer  does.  He  supposes  that  the  ship- 
wreck of  the  Ramillies  suggested  the  poem,  but  that  the  loss  of 
the  Britannia  was  chosen  for  the  sake  of  the  scenery.  "  It  seems 


LIFE    OF   FALCOXER.  XV 

muir,  which  was  then  possessed  by  his  illustrious 
kinsman,  Dr.  Robertson,  whose  father  was  cousin- 
german  to  Falconer.  "Mr.  Chalmers,  however,  re- 
marks on  this  statement,  that  though  Robertson 
may  have  been  related  to  Falconer,  he  certainly  had 
left  Gladsmuir  at  that  time. 

The  Shipwreck,  on  its  appearance,  was  reviewed 
hi  the  Monthly  Review,  vol.  xxvii.  p.  197,  in  a 
style  of  criticism  which  in  later  times  has  given  way 
to  one  less  indulgent  and  encouraging.  The  praise 
here  bestowed  on  Falconer,  of  equalling  Virgil  in 

rather  probable  that  he  proceeded  by  an  inverted  order,  and  that 
his  verses  on  the  loss  of  the  Ramillies  first  gave  the  idea  of  the 
more  extended  poem,  on  the  loss  of  the  Britannia.  The  tribute 
which  he  paid  to  the  memory  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  shows  what 
•were  his  poetical  powers  after  his  first  misfortune ;  and  if  we  ex- 
amine the  Shipwreck  by  this  test,  it  will  be  found  that  there  is 
scarcely  a  couplet  in  it  which  can  be  referred  to  so  humble  a  level. 
It  displays  everywhere  proofs  of  having  been  begun  and  ended 
during  a  far  more  advanced  period  of  improvement,  when  he  had 
acquired  an  astonisliing  mastery  over  the  mechanism  of  versifica- 
tion, and  was  rich  in  ideas,  the  fruit  of  long  experience  and  reflec- 
tion. It  is  deserving  too  of  attention,  that  in  many  places  the 
story  has  evidently  been  indebted  for  circumstances  that  heighten 
its  interest,  to  what  the  author  could  only  have  witnessed  on  board 
the  Ramillies:  and  though  it  is  possible  that  these  may  have 
been  additions  to  a  poem  previously  written,  yet  there  is  an  air 
of  original  connectedness  in  the  narrative,  which  by  no  means 
favours  the  supposition.  The  throwing  the  guns  overboard  is 
one  very  striking  instance  of  that  Man-of-war  experience  which 
pervades  the  poem:  nor  could  any  thing  but  the  latitude  of  poeti- 
cal license  justify  the  introduction  of  such  a  circumstance  into 
the  description  of  a  merchant  vessel  in  distress."  This  writer's 
reasons  must  be  taken  for  what  thev  are  worth. 


XVI  LIFE    OF    FALCONER. 

his  descriptions,  and  surpassing  him  in  the  charac- 
ter of  the  modern  Palinurus,  is  such,  as  in  the  pres- 
ent day  would  hardly  have  been  bestowed  on  our 
most  honoured  poets ;  and  Dr.  Clarke  has  added, 
while  giving  some  passages  which  an  Irishman  had 
translated  into  Latin  verse,  "  that  they  will  prove, 
even  to  the  pedant,  that  the  diction  between  Virgil 
and  Falconer  is  not  so  great  as  may  be  imagined." 
Truly  the  comparison  of  Falconer's  somewhat  pro- 
saic lines,  translated  into  Hibernian  Latin,  to  Virgil's 
exquisite  and  inimitable  language,  is  most  wonder- 
fully unfortunate!  But  we  proceed  to  give  the 
review: — 

"  It  has  frequently  been  observed,  that  true  genius 
will  surmount  every  obstacle  which  opposes  its 
exertion :  how  unfavourable  soever  the  situation  of 
a  Seaman  may  be  thought  to  the  Poet,  certain  it  is 
the  two  characters  are  not  incompatible ;  for  none 
but  an  able  Seaman  could  give  so  didactic  an  ac- 
count, and  so  accurate  a  description  of  the  voyage 
and  catastrophe  here  related ;  and  none  but  a  par- 
ticular favourite  of  the  muses  could  have  embellish- 
ed both  with  equal  harmony  of  numbers,  and 
strength  of  imagery. 

"  The  main  subject  of  the  poem  is  the  loss  of  the 
Ship  Britannia,  a  merchantman,  bound  from  Alex- 
andria to  Venice,  which  touched  at  the  Island  of 
Candia ;  whence  proceeding  on  her  voyage,  she  met 
with  a  violent  storm  that  drove  her  on  the  coasts  of 


LIFE    OF   FALCOXER.  XVli 

Greece,  where  she  suffered  shipwreck  near  Cape 
Colonne ;  three  only  of  the  crew  being  left  alive. 

"  The  ship  putting  to"  sea  from  the  Port  of  Can- 
dia,  the  Poet  takes  an  opportunity  of  making  seve- 
ral beautiful  marine  descriptions ;  such  as  the  pros- 
pect of  the  shore ;  a  shoal  of  dolphins ;  a  water- 
spout; the  method  of  taking  an  azimuth;  and 
working  the  ship.  In  the  Second  Canto,  the  ship 
having  cleared  the  land,  the  storm  begins ;  and  with 
it  the  consultation  of  the  pilots,  and  operations  of  the 
seamen ;  all  which  the  Poet  has  described  with  an 
amazing  minuteness,  and  has  found  means  to  reduce 
the  several  technical  terms  of  the  marine  into  smooth 
and  harmonious  numbers.  Homer  has  been  admired 
by  some  for  reducing  a  catalogue  of  ships  into  toler- 
ably flowing  verse;  but  who,  except  a  poetical 
Sailor,  the  nursling  of  Apollo,  educated  by  Neptune, 
would  ever  have  thought  of  versifying  his  own  sea- 
language  ?  what  other  poet  would  ever  have  dreamt 
of  reef-tackles,  haliards,  clue-garnets,  buntlines,  lash- 
ings, laniards,  and  fifty  other  terms  equally  obnox- 
ious to  the  soft  sing-song  of  modern  poetasters. 

"  Many  of  his  descriptions  are  not  inferior  to  any 
thing  in  the  .^Eneid ;  many  passages  in  the  third 
and  fifth  books  of  which  our  Author  has  had  in 
view ;  they  have  not  suffered  by  his  imitation ;  and 
his  pilot  appears  to  much  greater  advantage  than 
the  Palinurus  of  Virgil. 

"  Nor  is  the  Poet's  talent  confined  to  the  descrip- 
2 


XV111  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

tion  of  inanimate  scenes :  he  relates,  and  bewails, 
the  .untimely  fate  of  his  companions  in  the  most 
animated  and  pathetic  strains.  The  close  of  the 
master's  address  to  the  seamen,  in  the  time  of  their 
greatest  danger,  is  noble  and  philosophical.  It  is 
impossible  to  read  the  circumstantial  account  of  the 
unfortunate  end  of  the  ship's  crew,  without  being 
deeply  affected  by  the  tale,  and  charmed  with  the 
manner  of  the  relation." 

At  the  peace  of  1763,  the  Royal  George  was  paid 
off,  but  Falconer  had  previously  published  an  ode 
entitled,  On  the  Duke  of  York's  Second  Departure 
from  England  as  Rear  Admiral.  He  composed  it, 
as  Governor  Hunter  observed,  during  an  occasional 
absence  from  his  messmates,  when  he  retired  into 
a  small  space  between  the  cable  trees  and  the  ship's 
side.  Dr.  Clarke  considers  the  conclusion  to  be  not 
unworthy  of  Dryden ;  but  I  confess  I  can  see  no 
marks  of  that  divine  hand.  It  was  severely  re- 
viewed in  the  Critical  Review,  which  very  review 
Dr.  Clarke  says  was  written  by  Falconer.  This, 
on  all  rational  grounds  was  very  improbable ;  and 
Mr.  Chalmers  has  on  competent  authority  contra- 
dicted it 

Falconer  now  exchanged  the  military  for  the  civil 
department  of  the  navy ;  and  in  1763,  he  was  ap- 
pointed purser  of  the  Glory  frigate  of  32  guns.  Soon 
after,  he  married  a  young  lady  of  the  unpoetical 
name  o'f  Hicks,  the  daughter  of  a  surgeon  of  Sheer- 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XIX 

ness  Yard.  Mr.  T.  Campbell*  says,  "she  was 
an  accomplished  and  beautiful  woman : "  the  last 
quality  is  entirely  derived  from  the  biographer's 
gallantry ;  for  Dr.  Clarke  says,  that  it  was  rather 
the  lustre  of  Miss  Hicks's  mind,  than  the  beauty  of 
her  person,  that  attracted  the  enamoured  poet.  She 
possessed  talents  which  she  inherited ;  and  the  mar- 
riage turned  out  to  the  happiness  of  the  parties. 
When  Dr.  Clarke  was  collecting  materials  for  his 
Life,  he  could  not  discover  where  Falconer's  widow 
resided ;  but  he  considered  that  she  probably  pos- 
sessed a  miniature,f  and  letters  of  her  husband, 
which  would  have  thrown  light  on  his  history.  Mr. 
Chalmers,  who  was  writing  in  1810,  says,  that  she 
died  at  Bath  a  few  years  since,  and  was  liberally 
supplied  with  money  by  Mr.  Cadell  in  considera- 
tion of  the  successful  sale  of  her  husband's  marine 
dictionary.  The  doubts  and  distractions  of  the  poet's 
courtship  were  expressed  in  a  ballad  called  the  Fond 
Lover ;  by  which  it  would  appear  that  the  fort  of 
Miss  Hicks's  affection  and  virtue  did  not  surrender 
till  after  a  doubtful  and  protracted  siege.  He 
poured  forth  his  sorrows,  as  all  distressed  servants 

*  See  T.  Campbell's  Specimens  of  the  British  Poets,  vol.  vi.  p. 
97.  Miss  Hicks's  poetical  name  -was  "Miranda."  Ritson  has 
praised  Falconer's  Address  to  Miranda,  "  The  smiling  plains  pro- 
fusely gay,"  &c. 

t  No  picture  or  likeness  of  Falconer  is  known  to  exist. 


XX  LIFE    OF   FALCOXER. 

of  Apollo  have  done  since  the  days  of  Homer,  to 
the  winds  and  waves : 


Sadly  social  with  my  lay 

The  winds  in  concert  weep. 


and  again, 


Since  all  her  thoughts  by  sense  refined, 

Unartful  truth  express ; 
Say,  wherefore  sense  and  truth  are  join'd 

To  give  my  soul  distress  ? 

When  the  Glory  was  laid  up  in  ordinary  at  Chat- 
ham, Commissioner  Hanway,  brother  to  the  cele- 
brated Jonas  Hanway,  took  an  interest  in  the  poet- 
ical talents  and  pursuits  of  the  purser ;  and  the 
captain's  cabin  was  ordered  to  be  fitted  up  with 
all  comforts  and  conveniences,  that  Falconer  might 
pursue  his  studies  without  expense.  Here  he 
finished  his  Marine  Dictionary  —  a  work  of  years  — 
the  design  was  suggested  to  him  by  Mr.  Scott,  and 
approved  by  Sir  Edward  Hawke.  The  celebrated 
Du  Hamel,  who  had  distinguished  himself  for  some 
•writings  on  naval  architecture,  also  gave  it  his  ap- 
probation. Those  published  on  similar  subjects 
abroad,  he  described  as  being  very  imperfect :  — 
'  Ce  livre  manquoit  absolument.'  —  From  the  Glory 
Falconer  was  appointed  to  the  Swiftsure.  In  1764, 
he  published  a  new  edition  of  his«  poem,  with  cor- 
rections and  additions.  The  next  year  he  printed 
a  political  satire  on  Lord  Chatham,  "Wilks,  Churchill, 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XXI 

&c.  which  Dr.  Clarke  says  was  a  proper  antidote 
to  the  Rosciad!  it  might  as  well  have  been  an  anti- 
dote to  Paradise  Lost. 

The  Marine  Dictionary  was  published  in  1769, 
and  Falconer  left  his  commodious  cabin,  for  one  of 
those  abodes  of  genius  —  the  poet's  rightful  inheri- 
tance —  a  garret  in  the  metropolis.  Here  he  strug- 
gled on  in  some  way  or  other,  the  particulars  of 
which  are  not  known ;  at  length  he  received  a  pro- 
posal from  Mr.  Murray,  the  bookseller,  to  join  with 
him  in  taking  Mr.  Sandby's  business  opposite  St. 
Dunstan's  Church,  The  offer,  as  it  appears  by 
Murray's  letter,  seemed  to  hold  out  prospects  of 
great  advantage :  why  Falconer  did  not  accept  it, 
does  not  appear :  if  he  had,  the  splendid  and  suc- 
cessful establishment  in  Albemarle  Street,  the  off- 
spring of  the  other,  might  now  have  been  graced 
with  a  poet's  name.  Speaking  of  the  publishing 
booksellers,  Mr.  Murray  writes  —  "Many  block- 
heads in  the  trade  are  making  fortunes,  and  did  we 
not  succeed  as  well  as  they,  I  think  it  must  be  im- 
puted only  to  ourselves." 

A  third  edition  of  the  Shipwreck  being  called  for 
in  1769,  considerable  improvements  and  additions 
were  prepared  by  the  author :  but  being  appointed 
purser  to  the  Aurora  Frigate,  which  was  going  out 
to  India,  with  Mr.  Vansittart,*  and  others,  as  com- 

*  It  is  said,  Mr.  Falconer  was  promised  the  private  secretary- 
ship to  the  commissioners.  See  Lives  of  Sc.  Poets,  iii.  p.  75. 


XX11  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

missioners  for  the  company's  affairs,  in  the  hurry  of 
his  preparations  and  departure,  it  is  supposed  that 
he  left  the  care  of  the  new  edition  to  his  friend 
Mallet.  It  is  said,  that  there  are  some  mistakes  in 
the  nautical  terms ;  and  Dr.  Clarke  says,  "  the  infe- 
riority of  many  passages  is  strikingly  evident,"  — 
but  if  David  Mallet  the  poet  is  the  person  alluded 
to,  he  was  one  to  whom  the  fame  of  the  poem  might 
have  been  safely  entrusted ;  for  he  was  skilled  in  all 
the  art  of  versification,  and  is  not  likely  to  have  let 
negligences  or  errors  escape  his  notice. 

We  are  now  drawing  to  the  melancholy  and  un- 
expected close  of  our  author's  life.  The  Aurora 
left  England  -on  the  30th  Sept,  1769,  and  after 
touching  at  the  Cape,  which  she  left  on  the  27th 
December,  was  lost  in  some  part  of  her  remaining 
passage.  It  has  been  supposed  that  this  unfortunate 
vessel  perished  by  fire :  but  the  more  general  opin- 
ion seems  to  be,  that  she  foundered  in  the  Mosam- 
bique  Channel.  Captain  Lee,*  although  a  stranger 
to  its  navigation,  would  not  be  dissuaded  from  at- 
tempting it :  and  it  is  said,  that  Mr.  Vansittart,  who 

Mr.  Alex.  Campbell  says,  "  It  should  seem  from  a  note  subjoined 
to  an  address  to  his  mistress,  first  printed  in  Dr.  Gilbert  Stuart's 
Edinburgh  Magazine  and  Review  for  November,  1773,  that  Fal- 
coner had  been  several  times  in  India,  and  it  is  not  improbable, 
but  that  his  talents  had  gained  him  patronage,  in  consequence  of 
which  his  appointment  in  the  Aurora  was  such  as  might  have 
ensured  his  fortune  and  independence."  — v.  Introd.  p.  238. 
*  See  Gent.  Mag.  vol.  xli.  p.  237. 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XXllt 

went  out  in  it,  as  commissioner,  was  so  averse  to 
this  dangerous  experiment,  that  if  another  ship  had 
been  at  the  Cape,  he  would  have  proceeded  in  her. 
On  the  19th  November,  1773,  a  Black  was  exam- 
ined before  the  board  of  directors,  who  affirmed  — 
That  he  was  one  of  five  persons  who  had  been 
saved  from  the  wreck  of  the  Aurora :  that  the  said 
frigate  had  been  cast  away  on  a  reef  of  rocks  off 
Macao.  That  he  was  two  years  on  an  island  after 
he  escaped,  and  was  miraculously  preserved  by  a 
coasting  ship  happening  to  touch  upon  the  island* 
"  Falconer,"  (says  Burns,  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Dun- 
lop)  "  the  unfortunate  author  of  the  Shipwreck, 
which  you  so  much  admire,  is  no  more.  After 
weathering  the  dreadful  catastrophe  he  so  feelingly 
describes  in  his  poem,  and  after  weathering  many 
hard  gales  of  fortune,  he  went  to  the  bottom  with 
the  Aurora  frigate  !  I  forget  what  part  of  Scotland 
had  the  honour  of  giving  him  birth,  but  he  was  the 
son  of  obscurity  and  misfortune.  He  was  one  of 
those  daring,  adventurous  spirits,  which  Scotland 
beyond  any  other  country  is  remarkable  for  pro- 
ducing. Little  does  the  fond  mother  think,  as  she 
hangs  delighted  over  the  sweet  little  leech  at  her 
bosom,  where  the  poor  fellow  may  hereafter  wan- 
der, and  what  may  be  his  fate.  I  remember  a 
stanza  in  an  old  Scottish  ballad,  which,  notwith- 
standing its  rude  simplicity,  speaks  feelingly  to  the 
heart :  — 


XXIV  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

" '  Little  did  my  mother  think, 
That  day  she  cradled  me, 
What  land  I  was  to  travel  on, 
Or  what  death  I  should  die ! '  " 

In  person,  Falconer  was  about  five  feet  two  inches 
in  height,  of  a  thin,  light  make,  with  hard  features, 
and  a  weather-beaten  complexion.  His  hair  was 
brown,  and  he  was  marked  with  the  smallpox.  In 
his  Common  address,  it  is  said,  he  was  blunt  and 
forbidding:  but  quick  and  fluent  in  conversation. 
His  observation  was  keen,  and  his  judgments  acute 
and  severe.  By  natural  temper  he  was  cheerful, 
and  used  to  amuse  his  companions,  the  seamen,  with 
acrostics  which  he  made  on  their  favourite  nymphs. 
He  was  a  good  and  skilful  seaman.  As  for  educa- 
tion, he  assured  Governor  Hunter,  that  it  was  con- 
fined to  reading,  English,  and  arithmetic.  In  his 
voyages,  he  had  picked  up  a  little  colloquial  knowl- 
edge of  Italian  and  Spanish,  and  such  languages  as 
are  spoken  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean. 
That  he  was  esteemed  by  his  mess-mates  is  shown 
in  a  passage  of  a  little  work,  called  the  Journal  of  a 
Seaman,  written  in  1755,  published  by  Murray  in 
1815.  "How  often,"  says  the  author,  "have  I 
wished  to  have  the  associate  of  my  youth,  Bill  Fal- 
coner, with  me  to  explore  these  beauties,  and  to 
read  them  in  his  sweet  poetry.  But,  alas  !  I  parted 
with  him  in  Old  England,  never  perhaps  to  meet 
more  in  this  world.  His  may  be  a  happier  lot,  led 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XXV 

by  a  gentler  star,  he  may  pass  through  this  busy 
scene  with  more  ease  and  tranquillity  than  has  been 
the  fortune  of  his  humble  friend,  Penrose."  * 

In  considering  the  merits  of  the  poem  of  The 
Shipwreck,  it  is  necessary  to  dismiss  from  our  minds 
the  exaggerated  praises  which  are  to  be  met  with  in 
the  pages  of  some  of  his  editors,  as  Dr.  S.  Clarke 
and  Mr.  Chalmers,  neither  of  whom,  as  appears  to 
me,  had  any  pretensions  to  be  considered  judges  of 
poetical  excellence.  If  the  poem  is  estimated  by 
a  judgment  lying  between  its  positive  merits,  and 
the  disadvantages  under  which  it  was  composed, — 
undoubtedly  the  author  will  receive  no  slight  pro- 
portion of  praise.  And  though,  with  the  exception 
of  some  happier  parts,  it  cannot  satisfy  the  taste 
which  has  been  formed  on  the  finished  writings  of 
our  leading  poets,  yet  it  is  a  singularly  elegant  pro- 
duction of  a  person  who  had  received  no  education 
beyond  the  mere  elements  of  language,  and .  who 
was  subsequently  occupied  in  the  severe  duties 
and  business  of  a  seafaring  life  —  equally  without 
learning  or  leisure.  The  poetical  powers  of  Fal- 
coner, in  whatever  rank  they  may  be  placed,  Avere 
the  gift  of  nature ;  for  any  assistance  they  may  have 
derived  from  subsequent  application,  was  only  a 
proof  that  the  original  powers  previously  existed. 

*  See  Lives  of  the  Scottish  Poets,  1822,  vol.  iii.  p.  77.  The  life 
of  Falconer  is  signed  K.  E.  It  is  doubtful  whether  this  journal 
of  Penrose  is  real  or  fictitious.  —  v.  Quarterly  Rev. 


XXVI  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

The  Milton  of  the  village  remained  neither  mute, 
nor  inglorious.* 

The  plan  of  the  poem  is  simple,  but  not  defective ; 
though  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  it  might  have 
been  improved  by  a  greater  diversity  of  character, 
and  a  more  powerful  and  animated  variety  of  de- 
scription :  in  fact,  there  is  not  much  to  praise  in  the 
curiosity  of  the  design,  or  the  complication  of  cir- 
cumstances through  which  it  was  conducted :  but 
though  inartificial,  it  is  not  carelessly  or  inefficiently 
arranged.  That  the  description  of  the  general 
distress,  which  has  occupied  the  mind  of  the  reader 
through  the  former  portion  of  the  poem,  should  at 
last  merge  in  the  narration  of  particular  and  per- 
sonal history,  as  in  the  case  of  Palaemon,  was  justly 
and  happily  conceived,  and  thus  a  dramatic  char- 
acter is  drawn  over  the  close.  It  is  agreed  that  the 
nautical  descriptions  are  appropriate  and  correct. 
The  great  fault  of  the  poem  is  one  that  extends 
through  its  entire  composition,  and  consists  in  the 
absence  of  any  very  striking,  and  original  bursts  of 
genius,  —  of  that  fresh  and  vivid  colouring  which  is 
given  by  a  bright  imagination,  —  and  of  those  beau- 
tiful combinations,  happy  associations,  and  masterly 
touches  of  the  great  masters  of  song.  It  is  true, 
that  Falconer  is  not  an  imitator  of  his  predecessors, 
or  a  mannerist  in  any  particular  school  of  poetry. 

*  "  Some  mute,  inglorious  Milton  here  may  rest." —  Gray. 


LIFE    OF    FALCONER.  XXV11 

There  are  no  favorite  expressions,  nor  turns  of  lan- 
guage, nor  descriptions  .copied  from  preceding  poets  ; 
his  style  is  not  an  echo  of  any  other  writer.  It  is 
most  probable  that  he  had  studied  Pope's  Homer, 
which  was  the  storehouse  of  all  succeeding  poets, 
and  the  style,  language,  combinations  of  words,  and 
tone  and  modulation  of  which,  descended  from  poet 
to  poet,  till  it  became  at  one  time  a  conventional 
form  of  poetical  speech.  There  are  a  few  marks  in 
his  poem,  just  sufficient  to  show  that  Falconer  was 
not  unacquainted  with  Pope's  writings :  and  he  had 
read  sufficiently  to  make  himself  familiar  with  the 
language  of  poetry  in  his  day :  indeed  much  of  the 
flatness  and  tameness  of  his  expressions  arises  from 
his  use  of  this  long  worn,  and  current  coin  of  Par- 
nassus. 

Mr.  Campbell  has  justly  observed,  —  "that  his 
diction  too  generally  abounds  with  common  place 
expletives,  and  feeble  lines,"  —  of  the  first,  I  should 
point  out  such  as,  —  black  adversity  —  unspotted 
truth  —  trembling  order  —  melting  tear  —  sacred 
Maro's  art  —  brazen  voice  of  battle  —  happy  plains 
—  and  many  others  of  the  like  kind.  Of  the  latter, 
such  lines  as  the  following :  — 

Determin'd  from  whatever  point  they  rise, 
To  trust  his  fortune  to  the  seas  and  skies, 
and, 

This  vast  phenomenon  whose  lofty  head.* 

*  We  remember  our  late  lamented  friend,  the  learned  transla- 


XXV1U  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

Add  to  this,  that  the  construction  of  Falconer's  verse 
is  not  often  vigorous,  or  musically  varied,  and  that 
there  is  an  ungraceful  change  of  the  past  and  pres- 
ent tenses.  Such  are  the  defects  that  might  be 
expected,  in  the  work  of  a  person  imperfectly  edu- 
cated, and  who,  though  possessing  a  taste  and  feel- 
ing for  poetry,  and  a  power  of  embodying  his  ideas 
in  poetical  language,  yet  had  not  any  of  those  strong 
and  original  powers,  which  can  burst  through  all 
obstacles,  and  compensate  for  all  defects.  Such 
was  Burns,  —  and  such  is  Ebenezer  Elliot,  the  man 
of  all  the  self-educated  poets,  since  the  days  of  Burns, 
of  the  most  original  powers,  the  finest  imagination, 
and  the  most  copious  and  animated  style. 

There  is  little  in  the  descriptions  of  the  scenery 
of  Greece,  or  of  the  "  Isles  that  crown  the  -ZEgean 
Main,"  that  could  not  have  been  written  equally  well 
without  the  aid  of  personal  observation :  nothing 
graphic  and  local  in  the  touches ;  and  the  various 
allusions  to  the  historic  fame,  and  the  heroic  char- 
acters of  Greece,  are  too  faint  and  general  to  afford 
much  delight.  With  regard  to  the  introduction  of 
sea  phrases,  I  agree  with  Campbell — "That  the 
effect  of  some  of  them  is  to  give  a  definite,  and 
authentic  character  to  his  descriptions ;  but  that 
most  of  them  to  a  landsman's  ear,  resembles  slang 

tor  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  repeating  to  us  an  Ode  to  Venus,  the 
first  line  of  which  was, 

Before  I  enter  on  this  great  affair,  etc. 


LIFE    OF    FALCONER.  XXIX 

and  produces  obscurity."  —  Such  appear  to  me  the 
defects  of  this  poem ;  yet  notwithstanding  these,  the 
Shipwreck  will  probably  remain,  as  it  has  always 
been,  a  popular  poem  —  not  popular  among  the 
higher  classes  of  society,  nor  with  those  who  require, 
for  the  gratification  of  their  taste,  the  delicate  and 
curious  finish  of  the  perfect  artist ;  or  those  who  can 
delight  alone  in  the  flashes  and  outbreaks  of  the 
most  powerful  intellects ;  in  the  most  original  con- 
ceptions, and  the  richest  combinations  of  thought  and 
imagery.  —  But  to  others,  and  those  perhaps  the 
most  numerous,  Falconer's  poem  will  always  be  a 
source  of  rational  gratification.  The  subject  itself  is 
interesting  —  the  scenery  which  belongs  to  it  —  the 
descriptions  of  natural  objects  —  the  changes  and 
various  aspects  of  nature  —  the  sunshine  and  the 
storm  —  the  calm  and  the  tempest;  while  the  in- 
creasing interest  of  the  story  —  the  impending  dan- 
ger of  the  ship  —  the  courage  and  constancy  of  the 
crew  —  the  vivid  descriptions  of  the  terrific  storm 
—  these  ah1  combine  in  keeping  the  attention  alive, 
and  awakening  strong  sympathy  in  persons  whose 
feelings  are  easily  aroused ;  which  are  neither  re- 
pressed nor  stifled  by  the  customs  and  courtesies  of 
refined  society ;  nor  weakened  by  a  too  frequent 
indulgence  hi  stories  of  fictitious  calamity. 

There  are  some  elegant  and  poetical  lines  scat- 
tered through  the  narrative,  as 

Or  win  the  anchor  from  his  dark  abode. 


XXX  LIFE    OF    FALCOXER. 

Again  on  the  same  subject, 

Uptorn,  reluctant,  from  its  oozy  cave 
The  pond'rous  anchor  rises  on  the  wave; 

and 

Prone  on  the  midnight  surge  with  parting"  breath ; 

and 

Soft  as  the  happy  swain's  enchanting  lay 
That  pipes  among  the  shades  of  Endermay ; 

and 

In  every  look  the  Paphian  graces  shine, 

Soft  breathing  o'er  his  cheek  their  bloom  divine. 

There  are  also  some  longer  passages  of  superior 
merit,  one  or  two  of  which  we  extract. 

Immortal  train !  who  guide  the  maze  of  song, 
To  whom  all  science,  arte,  and  arms  belong, 
Who  bid  the  trumpet  of  eternal  fame 
Exalt  the  warrior's  and  the  poet's  name, 
Or  in  lamenting  elegies  express 
The  varied  pang  of  exquisite  distress ; 
If  e'er  with  trembling  hope  *  I  fondly  stray'd 
In  life's  fair  morn  beneath  your  hallow'd  shade, 
To  hear  the  sweetly-mournful  lute  complain, 
And  melt  the  heart  with  ecstasy  of  pain, 
Or  listen  to  the  enchanting  voice  of  love, 
While  ah1  Elysium  warbled  through  the  grove ; 
Oh !  by  the  hollow  blast  that  moans  around, 
That  sweeps  the  wild  harp  with  a  plaintive  sound, 
By  the  long  surge  that  foams  through  yonder  cavCj 
Whose  vaults  remurmur  to  the  roaring  wave ; 
With  living  colours  give  my  verse  to  glow, 
The  sad  memorial  of  a  tale  of  woe ! 

*  "  There  they  alike  in  trembling  hope  repose."  —  Gray. 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XXXI 

The  fate,  in  lively  sorrow  to  deplore 

Of  wanderers  sliipwreck'd  on  a  leeward  shore. 

Alas !  neglected  by  the  sacred  nine, 
Their  suppliant  feels  no  genial  ray  divine  : 
Ah!  will  they  leave  Pieria's  happy  shore, 
To  plough  the  tide  where  wintry  tempests  roar  ? 
Or  shall  a  youth  approach  their  hallow' d  fane, 
Stranger  to  Phoebus  and  the  tuneful  train? 
Far  from  the  muses'  academic  grove, 
'T  was  his  the  vast  and  trackless  deep  to  rove ; 
Alternate  change  of  climates  has  he  known, 
And  felt  the  fierce  extremes  of  either  zone : 
Where  polar  skies  congeal  th'  eternal  snow, 
Or  equinoctial  suns  forever  glow, 
Smote  by  the  freezing,  or  the  scorching  blast, 
"  A  ship-boy  on  the  high  and  giddy  mast," 
From  regions  where  Peruvian  billows  roar, 
To  the  bleak  coasts  of  savage  Labrador ; 
From  where  Damascus,  pride  of  Asian  plains, 
Stoops  her  proud  neck  beneath  tyrannic  chains, 
To  where  the  isthmus,  laved  by  adverse  tides, 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  seas  divides : 
But  while  he  measured  o'er  the  painful  race 
In  fortune's  wild  illimitable  chase, 
Adversity,  companion  of  his  way, 
Still  o'er  the  victim  hung  with  iron  sway, 
Bade  new  distfesses  every  instant  grow, 
Marking  each  change  of  place  with  change  of  woe. 

****** 
Such  joyless  toils,  in  early  youth  endured, 
The  expanding  dawn  of  mental  day  obscured, 
Each  genial  passion  of  the  soul  opprest, 
And  quench'd  the  ardour  kindling  in  his  breast: 
Then  censure  not  severe  the  native  song, 
Though  jarring  sounds  the  measured  verse  prolong, 
Though  terms  uncouth  offend  the  softer  ear, 
Yet  truth,  and  human  anguish  deign  to  hear: 


XXX11  LIFE    OF    FALCOXER. 

No  laurel  wreaths  these  lays  attempt  to  claim, 
Nor  sculptured  brass  to  tell  the  poet's  name. 

»*«»#« 

0  first-born  daiighter  of  primeval  time ! 
By  whom  transmitted  down  in  every  climo 
The  deeds  of  ages  long  elapsed  are  known, 
And  blazon'd  glories  spread  from  zone  to  zone; 
Whose  magic  breath  dispels  the  mental  night, 
And  o'er  the  obscured  idea  pours  the  light; 
Say  on  what  seas,  for  thou  alone  canst  tell, 
What  dire  mishap  a  fated  ship  befell, 
Assail'd  by  tempests,  girt  with  hostile  shores? 
Arise !  approach !  unlock  thy  treasured  stores ! 
Full  on  my  soul  the  dreadful  scene  display, 
And  give  its  latent  horrors  to  the  day. 

I  shall  add  to  this  the  character  of  "Arion,"  in 
which  the  poet  himself  is  designed. 

To  Rodmond,  next  in  order  of  command, 
Succeeds  the  youngest  of  our  naval  band : 
But  what  avails  it  to  record  a  name 
That  courts  no  rank  among  the  sons  of  fame ; 
Whose  vital  spring  had  just  began  to  bloom, 
When  o'er  it  sorrow  spread  her  sickening  gloom? 
While  yet  a  stripling,  oft  with  fond  alarms 
His  bosom  danced  to  Nature's  boundless  charms; 
On  him  fair  science  dawn'd  in  happier  hour, 
Awakening  into  bloom  young  Fancy's  flower: 
But  soon  Adversity,  with  freezing  blast, 
The  blossom  wither' d,  and  the  dawn  o'ercast. 
Forlorn  of  heart,  and  by  severe  decree 
Condemn' d  reluctant  to  the  faithless  sea, 
With  long  farewell  he  left  the  laurel  grove, 
Where  science,  and  the  tuneful  sisters  rove. 
Hither  he  wander'd,  anxious  to  explore  » 

Antiquities  of  nations  now  no  more ; 


LIFE    OF  FALCONER. 

To  penetrate  each  distant  realm  unknown, 

And  range  excursive  o'er  the  untravell'd  zone: 

In  vain  —  for  rude  adyersity's  command 

Still  on  the  margin  of  each  famous  land, 

With  unrelenting  ire  his  steps  opposed, 

And  every  gate  of  hope  against  him  closed. 

Permit  my  verse,  ye  blest  Pierian  train ! 

To  call  Arion  this  ill-fated  swain: 

For  like  that  bard  unhappy,  on  his  head 

Malignant  stars  their  hostile  influence  shed: 

Both,  in  lamenting  numbers,  o'er  the  deep 

With  conscious  anguish  taught  the  harp  to  weep; 

And  both  the  raging  surge  in  safety  bore 

Amid  destruction,  panting  to  the  shore : 

This  last,  our  tragic  story  from  the  wave 

Of  dark  oblivion,  haply,  yet  may  save : 

With  genuine  sympathy  may  yet  complain, 

While  sad  remembrance  bleeds  at  every  vein. 

Of  Falconer's  minor  poems,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
say  much ;  they  can  do  no  honour  to  the  author  of 
the  Shipwreck.  The  poem  Sacred  to  the  Memory  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales  is  written  in  the  following  style ; 
which  may  be  called  the  Old  Ekgeiac. 

Oh !  bear  me  to  some  awful  silent  glade 
Where  cedars  form  an  unremitting  shade ; 
Where  never  track  of  human  feet  was  known, 
Where  never  cheerful  light  of  Phoebus  shone ; 
Where  chirping  linnets  warble  tales  of  love. 
And  hoarser  winds  howl  murmuring  through  the  grove. 
Where  some  unhappy  wretch  aye  mou^ps  his  doom, 
Deep  melancholy  wandering  through  the  gloom ; 
Where  solitude  and  meditation  roam, 
And  where  no  dawning  glimpse  of  hope  can  come ; 
Place  me  in  such  an  unfrequented  shade, 
To  speak  to  none  —  but  with  the  mighty  dead : 
C 


XXX11  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

No  laurel  wreaths  these  lays  attempt  to  claim, 
Nor  sculptured  brass  to  tell  the  poet's  name. 

****** 

0  first-born  daughter  of  primeval  time ! 
By  whom  transmitted  down  in  every  clime 
The  deeds  of  ages  long  elapsed  are  known, 
And  blazon' d  glories  spread  from  zone  to  zone; 
Whose  magic  breath  dispels  the  mental  night, 
And  o'er  the  obscured  idea  pours  the  light; 
Say  on  what  seas,  for  thoti  alone  canst  tell, 
What  dire  mishap  a  fated  ship  befell, 
Assail'd  by  tempests,  girt  with  hostile  shores? 
Arise !  approach !  unlock  thy  treasured  stores ! 
Full  on  my  soul  the  dreadful  scene  display, 
And  give  its  latent  horrors  to  the  day. 

I  shall  add  to  this  the  character  of  "Arion,"  in 
which  the  poet  himself  is  designed. 

To  Rodmond,  next  in  order  of  command, 
Succeeds  the  youngest  of  our  naval  band : 
But  what  avails  it  to  record  a  name 
That  courts  no  rank  among  the  sons  of  fame ; 
Whose  vital  spring  had  just  began  to  bloom, 
When  o'er  it  sorrow  spread  her  sickening  gloom? 
While  yet  a  stripling,  oft  with  fond  alarms 
His  bosom  danced  to  Nature's  boundless  charms; 
On  him  fair  science  dawn'd  in  happier  hour, 
Awakening  into  bloom  young  Fancy's  flower: 
But  soon  Adversity,  with  freezing  blast, 
The  blossom  wither'd,  and  the  dawn  o'ercast. 
Forlorn  of  heart,  and  by  severe  decree 
Condemn' d  reluctant  to  the  faithless  sea, 
With  long  farewell  he  left  the  laurel  grove, 
Where  science,  and  the  tuneful  sisters  rove. 
Hither  he  wander'd,  anxious  to  explore  * 

Antiquities  of  nations  now  no  more ; 


LIFE    OF   FALCONER.  XXX111 

To  penetrate  each  distant  realm  unknown, 

And  range  excursive  o'er  the  untravell'd  zone: 

In  vain  —  for  rude  adversity's  command 

Still  on  the  margin  of  each  famous  land, 

With  unrelenting  ire  his  steps  opposed, 

And  every  gate  of  hope  against  him  closed. 

Permit  my  verse,  ye  blest  Pierian  train ! 

To  call  Arion  this  ill-fated  swain : 

For  like  that  bard  unhappy,  on  his  head 

Malignant  stars  their  hostile  influence  shed : 

Both,  in  lamenting  numbers,  o'er  the  deep 

With  conscious  anguish  taught  the  harp  to  weep; 

And  both  the  raging  surge  in  safety  bore 

Amid  destruction,  panting  to  the  shore: 

This  last,  our  tragic  story  from  the  wave 

Of  dark  oblivion,  haply,  yet  may  save: 

With  genuine  sympathy  may  yet  complain, 

While  sad  remembrance  bleeds  at  every  vein. 

Of  Falconer's  minor  poems,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
say  much ;  they  can  do  no  honour  to  the  author  of 
the  Shipwreck.  The  poem  Sacred  to  the  Memory  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales  is  written  in  the  following  style ; 
which  may  be  called  the  Old  Elegeiac. 

Oh !  bear  me  to  some  awful  silent  glade 
Where  cedars  form  an  unremitting  shade ; 
Where  never  track  of  human  feet  was  known, 
Where  never  cheerful  light  of  Phoebus  shone ; 
Where  chirping  linnets  warble  tales  of  love, 
And  hoarser  winds  howl  murmuring  through  the  grove. 
Where  some  unhappy  wretch  aye  mourns  his  doom, 
Deep  melancholy  wandering  through  the  gloom ; 
Where  solitude  and  meditation  roam, 
And  where  no  dawning  glimpse  of  hope  can  come; 
Place  me  in  such  an  unfrequented  shade, 
To  speak  to  none  —  but  with  the  mighty  dead : 
C 


XXXI V  LIFE    OF   FALCONER. 

v 

To  assist  the  pouring  rains  with  brimful  eyes, 
And  aid  hoarse  howling  Boreas  with  my  sighs. 
****** 
Ye  powers,  and  must  a  prince  so  noble  die  ? 
Whose  equal  breathes  not  under  the  ambient  sky. 

The  poem  called  the  Demagogue  is  filled  with 
abuse  of  Lord  Chatham  in  most  virulent  and  un- 
measured terms ;  the  language  is  in  many  parts 
inflated,  in  others,  mean  and  prosaic ;  of  the  former 
the  following  lines  will  be  an  example :  — 

Methinks  I  hear  the  bellowing  Demagogue 
Dumb-sounding  declamations  disembogue; 
Expressions  of  immeasurable  length, 
Whose  pompous  jargon  fills  the  place  of  strength. 
Where  fulminating  rumbling  eloquence 
With  loud  theatric  rage,  bombards  the  sense, 
And  words  deep  ranked  in  horrible  array, 
Exasperated  metaphors  convey. 

And  these   again   sink  into   such  couplets  as   the 
following :  — 

But  all  the  events  collected  to  relate, 
Let  us  his  actions  recapitulate. 

The  ballad  of  the  "Fond  Lover"  is  the  most 
•pleasing  of  his  minor  productions. 


LIFE    OF   FALCOXEE.  XXXV 


THE  DIEGE  OF  POOK*  AEION. 

WHAT  pale  and  bleeding  youth  (-while  the  fell  Blast 
Howls  o'er  the  wreck,  and  fainter  sinks  the  cry 
Of  struggling  -wretches  ere  o'erwhelmed  they  die) 

Yet  floats  upborne  upon  the  driving  mast? 

0  poor  Arion !  has  thy  sweetest  strain, 
That  charm'd  old  Ocean's  wildest  solitude, 
At  this  dread  hour  his  waves'  dark  might  subdued? 

Let  Sea-Maids  thy  reclining  head  sustain ; 

And  wipe  the  blood,  and  briny  drops,  that  soil 
Thy  locks,  and  give  once  more  thy  wreathed  shell 
To  ring  with  melody: —  Oh  fruitless  Toil! 

Hark!  o'er  thy  head  again  the  tempests  swell; 

Hark!  hark  again  the  storm's  black  demons  yell 
More  loud ;  the  bellowing  deep  reclaims  his  spoil ! 

Peace !  and  may  weeping  Sea-Maids  sing  the  knell. 

W.  L.  BOWLES. 


FAREWELL,  poor  FALCOXER  !  when  the  dark  Sea 
Bursts  like  despair,  I  shall  remember  thee ; 
Nor  ever  from  the  sounding  beach  depart 
"Without  thy  music  stealing  on  my  heart, 
And  thinking  still  I  hear  dread  Ocean-  say, 
Thou  hast  declared  my  might,  be  thou  my  prey! 

W.  L.  BOWLES. 

*  Written  on  the  platform  at  Portsmouth,  April  16, 1803. 


THE    SHIPWRECK, 


IN  THREE  CANTOS. 


THE    TIME    EMPLOYED    IX    THIS    POEM    13    ABOUT     SIX     DAYS. 


Quseque  ipse  miserrima  vidi, 
Et  quorum  pars  magna  fui.  —  TIKG.  Jif  lib.  ii. 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO   THE    SECOND   EDITION, 

PUBLISHED    BY   A.    MILLAB,    IN    OCTAVO,    1764. 

WITH  A   CHAKT   OF  THE   SHIP'S   PATH    FROM   CANDIA    TO 
CAPE   COLO3SNA. 

IT  is  perhaps  necessary  to  acquaint  the  public, 
that  the  author  of  this  poem  designed  not  at  first  to 
enlarge  the  work  with  so  many  notes,  and,  to  avoid 
this,  proposed  to  refer  his  readers  to  any  one  of  the 
modern  dictionaries,  which  should  be  thought  most 
proper  for  explaining  the  technical  terms  occasion- 
ally mentioned  in  the  poem  ;  but,  after  strict  exam- 
ination of  them  all,  including  a  silly  inadequate 
performance  that  has  lately  appeared  by  a  sea- 
officer,*  he  could  by  no  means  recommend  their 
explanations,  without  forfeiting  his  claim  to  the  char- 
acter assumed  in  the  title-page,  of  which  he  is  much 
more  tenacious  than  of  his  reputation  as  a  poet. 

Although  it  is  so  frequent  a  practice  to  take  the 
advantage  of  public  approbation,  and  raise  the  price 
of  performances  that  have  been  much  encouraged, 
the  author  chooses  to  steer  in  a  quite  different 

*  Can  a  sea-officer  be  so  ignorant  as  to  mistake  the  names  of 
the  most  common  things  in  a  ship  ? 


4  ADVERTISEMENT. 

channel :  it  being  a  considerable  time  since  the  first 
edition  sold  off,  (notwithstanding  the  high  price,  and 
the  singularity  of  the  subject,)  he  might  very  justly 
continue  the  price ;  but  as  it  deterred  a  number  of 
the  inferior  officers  of  the  sea  from  purchasing  it,  at 
their  repeated  requests  it  has  been  printed  now  in  a 
smaller  edition :  at  the  same  time,  the  author  is 
sorry  to  observe,  that  the  gentlemen  of  the  sea,  for 
whose  entertainment  it  was  chiefly  calculated,  have 
hardly  made  one  tenth  of  the  purchasers. 


ADVERTISEMENT    TO    THE   THIRD   EDITION, 

DATED   FROM  SOMERSET  HOUSE,   OCTOBER   1,   1769,   THE 
YEAR  IN  WHICH   FALCONER   SAILED   FOR  INDIA. 

THE  favourable  reception  which  this  performance 
has  hitherto  met  with  from  the  public,  has  encour- 
aged the  author  to  give  it  a  strict  and  thorough 
revision ;  in  the  course  of  which,  he  flatters  himself, 
it  will  be  found  to  have  received  very  considerable 
improvements. 


INTRODUCTION   TO  THE   POEM. 


WHILE  jarring  interests  wake  the  world  to  arms, 
And  fright  the  peaceful  vale  with  dire  alarms, 
"While  Albion  bids  the  avenging  thunder  roll 
Along  her  vassal  deep  from  pole  to  pole ; 
Sick  of  the  scene,  where  war  with  ruthless  hand 
Spreads  desolation  o'er  the  bleeding  land ; 
Sick  of  the  tumult,  where  the  trumpet's  breath 
Bids  ruin  smile,  and  drowns  the  groan  of  death ; 
'Tis  mine,  retired  beneath  this  cavern  hoar 
That  stands  all  lonely  on  the  sea-beat  shore, 
Far  other  themes  of  deep  distress  to  sing 
Than  ever  trembled  from  the  vocal  string ; 
A  scene  from  dumb  oblivion  to  restore, 
To  fame  unknown,  and  new  to  epic  lore 
Where  hostile  elements  conflicting  rise, 
And  lawless  surges  swell  against  the  skies, 
Till  hope  expires,  and  peril  and  dismay 
Wave  their  black  ensigns  on  the  watery  way. 
Immortal  tram  !  who  guide  the  maze  of  song, 


6  INTRODUCTION".  20] 

To  whom  all  science,  arts,  and  arras  belong, 

Who  bid  the  trumpet  of  eternal  fame 

Exalt  the  warrior's  and  the. poet's  name, 

Or  in  lamenting  elegies  express 

The  varied  pang  of  exquisite  distress ; 

If  e'er  with  trembling  hope  I  fondly  stray'd 

In  life's  fair  morn  beneath  your  hallow'd  shade, 

To  hear  the  sweetly-mournful  lute  complain, 

And  melt  the  heart  with  ecstasy  of  pain, 

Or  listen  to  the  enchanting  voice  of  love, 

While  ah1  Elysium  warbled  through  the  grove  ; 

Oh !  by  the  hollow  blast  that  moans  around, 

That  sweeps  the  wild  harp  with  a  plaintive  sound ; 

By  the  long  surge  that  foams  through  yonder  cave, 

Whose  vaults  remurmur  to  the  roaring  wave ; 

With  living  colours  give  my  verse  to  glow, 

The  sad  memorial  of  a  tale  of  woe  ! 

The  fate,  in  lively  sorrow,  to  deplore 

Of  wanderers  shipwreck'd  on  a  leeward  shore. 

Alas !  neglected  by  the  sacred  Nine, 
Their  suppliant  feels  no  genial  ray  divine : 
Ah !  will  they  leave  Pieria's  happy  shore, 
To  plough  the  tide  where  wintry  tempests  roar  ? 
Or  shall  a  youth  approach  their  hallow'd  fane, 
Stranger  to  Phoebus,  and  the  tuneful  train  ? 
Far  from  the  muses'  academic  grove, 


46]  INTRODUCTION. 

'T  was  his  the  vast  and  trackless  deep  to  rove ; 

Alternate  change  of  climates  has  he  known, 

And  felt  the  fierce  extremes  of  either  zone : 

Where  polar  skies  congeal  the  eternal  snow,. 

Or  equinoctial  suns  for  ever  glow, 

Smote  by  the  freezing,  or  the  scorching  blast, 

"  A  ship-boy  on  the  high  and  giddy  mast," 

From  regions  where  Peruvian  billows  roar, 

To  the  bleak  coasts  of  savage  Labrador ; 

From  where  Damascus,  pride  of  Asian  plains, 

Stoops  her  proud  neck  beneath  tyrannic  chains, 

To  where  the  Isthmus,  laved  by  adverse  tides, 

Atlantic  and  Pacific  seas  divides : 

But  while  he  measured  o'er  the  painful  race 

In  fortune's  wild  illimitable  chase, 

Adversity,  companion  of  his  way, 

Still  o'er  the  victim  hung  with  iron  sway, 

Bade  new  distresses  every  instant  grow, 

Marking  each  change  of  place  with  change  of  woe 

In  regions  where  the  Almighty's  chastening  hand 

With  li-vid  pestilence  afflicts  the  land, 

Or  where  pale  famine  blasts  the  hopeful  year, 

Parent  of  want  and  misery  severe ; 

Or  where,  all-dreadful  in  the  embattled  line, 

The  hostile  ships  in  flaming  combat  join, 

Where  the  torn  vessel  wind  and  waves  assail, 


8  INTRODUCTION.  72] 

Till  o'er  her  crew  distress  and  death  prevail.  — 

Such  joyless  toils,  in  early  youth  endured, 

The  expanding  dawn  of  mental  day  obscured, 

Each  genial  passion  of  the  soul  opprest, 

And  cjuench'd  the  ardour  kindling  in  his  breast : 

Then  censure  not  severe  the  native  song, 

Though  jarring  sounds  the  measured  verse  prolong, 

Though  terms  uncouth  offend  the  softer  ear, 

Yet  truth,  and  human  anguish  deign  to  hear : 

No  laurel  wreaths  these  lays  attempt  to  claim, 

Nor  sculptured  brass  to  tell  the  poet's  name. 

And  lo !  the  power  that  wakes  the  eventful  song 
Hastes  hither  from  Lethean  banks  along ; 
She  sweeps  the  gloom,  and,  rushing  on  the  sight, 
Spreads  o'er  the  kindling  scene  propitious  light : 
In  her  right  hand  an  ample  roll  appears, 
Fraught  with  long  annals  of  preceding  years, 
With  every  wise  and  noble  art  of  man 
Since  first  the  circling  hours  their  course  began ; 
Her  left  a  silver  wand  on  high  display'd, 
Whose  magic  touch  dispels  oblivion's  shade  : . 
Pensive  her  look ;  on  radiant  wings  that  glow 
Like  Juno's  birds,  or  Iris'  flaming  boAV, 
She  sails ;  and  swifter  than  the  course  of  light 
Directs  her  rapid  intellectual  flight : 
The  fugitive  ideas  she  restores, 


98]  INTRODUCTION.  9 

And  calls  the  wandering  thought  from  Lethe's  shores ; 
To  things  long  past  a  second  date  she  gives, 
And  hoary  time  from  her  fresh  youth  receives ; 
Congenial  sister  of  immortal  fame, 
She  shares  her  power,  and  memory  is  her  name. 

O  first-born  daughter  of  primeval  time ! 
By  whom  transmitted  down  in  every  clime 
The  deeds  of  ages  long  elapsed  are  known, 
And  blazon'd  glories  spread  from  zone  to  zone ; 
Whose  magic  breath  dispels  the  mental  night, 
And  o'er  the  obscured  idea  pours  the  light ; 
Say  on  what  seas,  for  thou  alone  canst  tell, 
What  dire  mishap  a  fated  ship  befell, 
Assail'd  by  tempests,  girt  with  hostile  shores  ? 
Arise  !  approach !  unlock  thy  treasured  stores ! 
Full  on  my  soul  the  dreadful  scene  display, 
And  give  its  latent  horrors  to  the  day. 


FIEST   CANTO: 

THE    SCEXE    OF    WHICH    LIES    NEAK    THE    CITY   OF 
CANDIA. 

TIME,   ABOUT   FOUR   DAYS   AXD    A  HALF. 


AEGUMENT. 

I.  Eetrospect  of  the  voyage.  Arrival  at  Candia.  State  of  that 
island.  Season  of  the  year  described.  —  II.  Character  of  the 
master,  and  his  officers,  Albert,  Eodmond,  and  Arion.  Pale- 
mon,  son  to  the  owner  of  the  ship.  Attachment  of  Palemon  to 
Anna,  the  daughter  of  Albert.  —  III.  Noon.  Palemon's  his 
tory.  —  IV.  Sunset.  Midnight.  Arion' s  dream.  Unmoor  by 
moonlight.  Morning.  Sun's  azimuth  taken.  Beautiful  ap- 
pearance of  the  ship,  as  seen  by  the  natives  from  the  shore. 


THE    SHIPWRECK. 

CANTO  I. 

I.  A  SHIP  from  Egypt,  o'er  the  deep  impell'd 
By. guiding  winds,  her  course  for  Venice  held. 
Of  famed  Britannia  were  the  gallant  crew, 
And  from  that  isle  her  name  the  vessel  drew ; 
The  wayward  steps  of  fortune  they  pursued, 
And  sought  in  certain  ills  imagined  good : 
Though  caution'd  oft  her  slippery  path  to  shun, 
Hope  still  with  promised  joys  allured  them  on ; 
And,  while  they  listen'd  to  her  winning  lore, 
The  softer  scenes  of  peace  could  please  no  more 
Long  absent  they  from  friends  and  native  home 
The  cheerless  ocean  were  inured  to  roam  ; 
Yet  heaven,  in  pity  to  severe  distress, 
Had  crown'd  each  painful  voyage  with  success ; 
Still  to  compensate  toils  and  hazards  past 
Restored  them  to  maternal  plains  at  last. 


14  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [17 

Thrice  had  the  sun  to  rule  the  varying  year 
Across  the  equator  roll'd  his  flaming  sphere, 
Since  last  the  vessel  spread  her  ample  sail 
From  Albion's  coast,  obsequious  to  the  gale ; 
She  o'er  the  spacious  flood,  from  shore  to  shore 
Unwearying  wafted  her  commercial  store ; 
The  richest  ports  of  Afric  she  had  view'd, 
Thence  to  fair  Italy  her  course  pursued ; 
Had  left  behind  Trinacria's  burning  isle, 
And  visited  the  margin  of  the  Nile : 
And  now,  that  winter  deepens  round  the  pole, 
The  circling  voyage  hastens  to  its  goal : 
They,  blind  to  fate's  inevitable  law, 
No  dark  event  to  blast  their  hope  foresaw, 
But  from  gay  Venice  soon  expect  to  steer 
For  Britain's  coast,  and  dread  no  perils  near ; 
Inflamed  by  hope,  their  throbbing  hearts  elate 
Ideal  pleasures  vainly  antedate, 
Before  whose  vivid  intellectual  ray 
Distress  recedes,  and  danger  melts  away  : 
Already  British  coasts  appear  to  rise, 
The  chalky  cliffs  salute  their  longing  eyes ; 
Each  to  Ins  breast,  where  floods  of  rapture  roll, 
Embracing  strains  the  mistress  of  his  soul ; 
Nor  less  o'erjoy'd,  with  sympathetic  truth, 
Each  faithful  maid  expects  the  approaching  youth  : 


43J  CANTO    I.  15 

In  distant  souls  congenial  passions  glow, 
And  mutual  feelings  mutual  bliss  bestow  — 
Such  shadowy  happiness  their  thoughts  employ, 
Illusion  all,  and  visionary  joy ! 

Thus  time  elapsed,  while  o'er  the  pathless  tide 
Their  ship  through  Grecian  seas  the  pilots  guide. 
Occasion  call'd  to  touch  at  Candia's  shore, 
Which,  blest  with  favouring  winds,  they  soon  ex- 
plore ; 

The  haven  enter,  borne  before  the  gale, 
Dispatch  their  commerce,  and  prepare  to  sail. 

Eternal  powers  !  what  ruins  from  afar 
Mark  the  fell  track  of  desolating  war : 
Here  arts  and  commerce  with  auspicious  reign 
Once  breathed  sweet  influence  on  the  happy  plain ; 
While  o'er  the  lawn,  with  dance  and  festive  song, 
Young  pleasure  led  the  jocund  hours  along ; 
In  gay  luxuriance  Ceres  too  was  seen 
To  crown  the  valleys  with  eternal  green : 
For  wealth,  for  valour,  courted  and  revered, 
What  Albion  is,  fair  Candia  then  appear'd.  — 
Ah !  who  the  flight  of  ages  can  revoke  ? 
The  free-born  spirit  of  her  sons  is  broke, 
They  bow  to  Ottoman's  imperious  yoke ; 
No  longer  fame  their  drooping  heart  inspires, 
For  stern  oppression  quench'd  its  genial  fires : 


16  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [08 

Tho'  still  her  fields,  with  golden  harvests  crown'd, 
Supply  the  barren  shores  of  Greece  around, 
Sharp  penury  afflicts  these  wretched  isles, 
There  hope  ne'er  dawns,  and  pleasure  never  smiles ; 
The  vassal  wretch  contented  drags  his  chain, 
And  hears  his  famish'd  babes  lament  in  vain  : 
These  eyes  have  seen  the  dull  reluctant  soil 
A  seventh  year  mock  the  weary  labourer's  toil.  — 
No  blooming  Venus,  on  the  desert  shore, 
Now  views  with  triumph  captive  gods  adore ; 
No  lovely  Helens  now  with  fatal  charms 
Excite  the  avenging  chiefs  of  Greece  to  arms ; 
No  fair  Penelopes  enchant  the  eye, 
For  whom  contending  kings  were  proud  to  die  ; 
Here  sullen  beauty  sheds  a  twilight  ray, 
While  sorrow  bids  her  vernal  bloom  decay : 
Those  charms,  so  long  renown'd  in  classic  strains, 
Had  dimly  shone  on  Albion's  happier  plains ! 
Now,  in  the  southern  hemisphere,  the  sun 
Through  the  bright  Virgin,  and  the  Scales,  had  run, 
And  on  the  ecliptic  wheel'd  his  winding  way 
Till  the  fierce  Scorpion  felt  his  flaming  ray. 
Four  days  becalm'd  the  vessel  here  remains, 
And  yet  no  hopes  of  aiding  wind  obtains  ; 
For  sickening  vapours  lull  the  air  to  sleep, 
And  not  a  breeze  awakes  the  silent  deep : 


94]  CANTO   I.  17 

This,  when  the  autumnal  equinox  is  o'er, 
And  Phoebus  in  the  north  declines  no  more, 
The  watchful  mariner,  whom  heaven  informs, 
Oft  deems  the  prelude  of  approaching  storms.  — 
No  dread  of  storms  the  master's  soul  restrain, 
A  captive  fetter'd  to  the  oar  of  gain : 
His  anxious  heart,  impatient  of  delay, 
Expects  the  winds  to  sail  from  Candia's  bay, 
Determined,  from  whatever  point  they  rise, 
To  trust  his  fortune  to  the  seas,  and  skies. 

Thou  living  ray  of  intellectual  fire, 
Whose  voluntary  gleams  my  verse  inspire, 
Ere  yet  the  deepening  incidents  prevail, 
Till  roused  attention  feel  our  plaintive  tale ; 
Record  whom  chief  among  the  gallant  crew 
The  unblest  pursuit  of  fortune  hither  drew : 
Can  sons  of  Neptune,  generous,  brave,  and  bold, 
In  pain  and  hazard  toil  for  sordid  gold  ? 

They  can !  for  gold  too  oft  with  magic  art 
Can  rule  the  passions,  and  corrupt  the  heart : 
This  crowns  the  prosperous  villain  with  applause, 
To  whom  in  vain  sad  merit  pleads  her  cause  ; 
This  strews  with  roses  life's  perplexing  road, 
And  leads  the  way  to  pleasure's  soft  abode ; 
This   spreads   with    slaughter'd  heaps   the    bloody 
plain, 

2 


18  THE   SHIP  WRECK.  [H9 

And  pours  adventurous  thousands  o'er  the  main. 
II.  The  stately  ship,  with  all  her  daring  band, 
To  skilful  Albert  own'd  the  chief  command : 
Though  train'd  in  boisterous  elements,  his  mind 
Was  yet  by  soft  humanity  refined ; 
Each  joy  of  wedded  love,  at  home,  he  knew, 
Aboard,  confest  the  father  of  his  crew  ! 
Brave,  liberal,  just !  the  calm  domestic  scene 
Had  o'er  his  temper  breathed  a  gay  serene : 
Him  science  taught  by  mystic  lore  to  trace 
The  planets  wheeling  in  eternal  race ; 
To  mark  the  ship  in  floating  balance  held, 
By  earth  attracted,  and  by  seas  repell'd ; 
Or  point  her  devious  track  through  climes  unknown 
That  leads  to  every  shore  and  every  zone : 
He  saw  the  moon  thro'  heaven's  blue  concave  glide, 
And  into  motion  charm  the  expanding  tide, 
While  earth  impetuous  round  her  axle  rolls, 
Exalts  her  watery  zone,  and  sinks  the  poles ; 
Light  and  attraction,  from  their  genial  source, 
He  saw  still  wandering  with  diminish'd  force ; 
While  on  the  margin  of  declining  day 
Night's  shadowy  cone  reluctant  melts  away  — 
Inured  to  peril,  with  unconquer'd  soul, 
The  chief  beheld  tempestuous  oceans  roll : 
O'er  the  wild  surge  when  dismal  shades  preside, 


H5]  CANTO    I.  19 

His  equal  skill  the  lonely  bark  could  guide ; 

His  genius,  ever  for  the  event  prepared, 

Rose  with  the  storm,  and  all  its  dangers  shared. 

Rodmond  the  next  degree  to  Albert  bore, 
A  hardy  son  of  England's  farthest  shore, 
Where  bleak  Northumbria  pours  her  savage  train 
In  sable  squadrons  o'er  the  northern  main ; 
That,  with  her  pitchy  entrails  stored,  resort, 
A  sooty  tribe,  to  fair  Augusta's  port : 
"Where'er  in  ambush  lurk  the  fatal  sands, 
They  claim  the  danger,  proud  of  skilful  bands ; 
For  while  with  darkling  course  their  vessels  sweep 
The  winding  shore,  or  plough  the  faithless  deep, 
O'er  bar,  and  shelve,  the  watery  path  they  sound 
With  dexterous  arm,  sagacious  of  the  ground : 
Fearless  they  combat  every  hostile  wind, 
Wheeling  in  mazy  tracks,  with  course  inclined. 
Expert  to  moor  where  terrors  line  the  road, 
Or  win  the  anchor  from  its  dark  abode ; 
But  drooping,  and  relax'd,  in  climes  afar, 
Tumultuous  and  undisciplined  in  war. 
Such  Rodmond  was ;  by  learning  unrefined, 
That  oft  enh'ghtens  to  corrupt  the  mind. 
Boisterous  of  manners ;  train'd  in  early  youth 
To  scenes  that  shame  the  conscious  cheek  of  truth ; 
To  scenes  that  nature's  struggling  voice  control, 


20  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [171 

And  freeze  compassion  rising  in  the  soul  • 

"Where  the   grim   hell-hounds,  prowling   round  the 

shore, 

With  foul  intent  the  stranded  bark  explore  ; 
Deaf  to  the  voice  of  woe,  her  decks  they  board, 
While  tardy  justice  slumbers  o'er  her  sword. 
The  indignant  muse,  severely  taught  to  feel, 
Shrinks  from  a  theme  she  blushes  to  reveal. 
Too  oft  example,  arm'd  with  poisons  fell, 
Pollutes  the  shrine  where  mercy  loves  to  dwell : 
Thus  Rodmond,  train'd  by  this  unhallow'd  crew, 
The  sacred  social  passions  never  knew. 
UnskilPd  to  argue,  in  dispute  yet  loud, 
Bold  without  caution,  without  honours  -proud ; 
In  art  unschool'd,  each  veteran  rule  he  prized, 
And  all  improvement  haughtily  despised. 
Yet,  though  full  oft  to  future  perils  blind, 
With  skill  superior  glow'd  his  daring  mind 
Through  snares  of  death  the  reeling  bark  to  guide, 
When  midnight  shades  involve  the  raging  tide. 

To  Rodmond,  next  in  order  of  command, 
Succeeds  the  youngest  of  our  naval  band : 
But  what  avails  it  to  record  a  name 
That  courts  no  rank  among  the  sons  of  fame ; 
Whose  vital  spring  had  just  began  to  bloom, 
When  o'er  it  sorrow  spread  her  sickening  gloom  ? 


196]  CAXTO    I.  21 

While  yet  a  stripling,  oft  with  fond  alarms 
His  bosom  danced  to  nature's  boundless  charms ; 
On  him  fair  science  dawn'd  in  happier  hour, 
Awakening  into  bloom  young  fancy's  flower : 
But  soon  adversity,  with  freezing  blast, 
The  blossom  wither'd,  and  the  dawn  o'ercast. 
Forlorn  of  heart,  and  by  severe  decree 
Co:idemn'd  reluctant  to  the  faithless  sea, 
"With  long  farewell  he  left  the  laurel  grove, 
Where  science,  and  the  tuneful  sisters  rove. 
Hither  he  wander'd,  anxious  to  explore 
Antiquities  of  nations  now  no  more; 
To  penetrate  each  distant  realm  unknown, 
And  range  excursive  o'er  the  untravell'd  zone : 
In  vain  —  for  rude  adversity's  command 
Still  on  the  margin  of  each  famous  land, 
With  unrelenting  ire  his  steps  opposed, 
And  every  gate  of  hope  against  him  closed. 
Permit  my  verse,  ye  blest  Pierian  train  ! 
To  call  Arion  this  ill-fated  swain ; 
For  like  that  bard  unhappy,  on  his  head 
Malignant  stars  their  hostile  influence  shed : 
Both,  in  lamenting  numbers,  o'er  the  deep 
With  conscious  anguish  taught  the  harp  to  weep ; 
And  both  the  raging  surge  in  safety  bore 
Amid  destruction,  panting  to  the  shore : 


22  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [222 

This  last,  our  tragic  story  from  the  wave 
Of  dark  oblivion,  haply,  yet  may  save ; 
With  genuine  sympathy  may  yet  complain, 
While  sad  remembrance  bleeds  at  every  vein. 

These,  chief  among  the  ship's  conducting  train, 
Her  path  explored  along  the  deep  domain  ; 
Train'd  to  command,  and  range  the  swelling  sail, 
Whose  varying  force  conforms  to  every  gale. 
Charged  with  the  commerce,  hither  also  came 
A  gallant  youth,  Palemon  was  his  name : 
A  father's  stern  resentment  doom'd  to  prove, 
He  came  the  victim  of  unhappy  love ! 
His  heart  for  Albert's  beauteous  daughter  bled, 
For  her  a  sacred  flame  his  bosom  fed : 
Nor  let  the  wretched  slaves  of  folly  scorn 
This  genuine  passion,  nature's  eldest  born ! 
'Twas  his  with  lasting  anguish  to  complain, 
While  blooming  Anna  mourn'd  the  cause  in  vain. 

Graceful  of  form,  by  nature  taught  to  please, 
Of  power  to  melt  the  female  breast  with  ease  ; 
To  her  Palemon  told  his  tender  tale 
Soft  as  the  voice  of  summer's  evening  gale : 
His  soul,  where  moral  truth  spontaneous  grew, 
No  guilty  wish,  no  cruel  passion  knew : 
Though  tremblingly  alive  to  nature's  laws, 
Yet  ever  firm  to  honour's  sacred  cause ; 


248]  t          CANTO    I.  23 

O'erjoy'd  he  saw  her  lovely  eyes  relent, 

The  blushing  maiden  smiled  with  sweet  consent. 

Oft  in  the  mazes  of  a  neighbouring  grove 

Unheard  they  breathed  ^alternate  vows  of  love : 

By  fond  society  their  passion  greAV, 

Like  the  young  blossom  fed  with  vernal  dew ; 

While  their  chaste  souls  possess'd  the  pleasing  pains 

That  truth  improves,  and  virtue  ne'er  restrains. 

In  evil  hour  the  officious  tongue  of  fame 

Betray'd  the  secret  of  their  mutual  flame. 

With  grief  and  anger  struggling  in  his  breast, 

Palemon's  father  heard  the  tale  confest ; 

Long  had  he  listen'd  with  suspicion's  ear, 

And  learnt,  sagacious,  this  event  to  fear. 

Too  well,  fair  youth !  thy  liberal  heart  he  knew, 

A  heart  to  nature's  warm  impressions  true  : 

FuU  oft  his  wisdom  strove  with  fruitless  toil 

With  avarice  to  pollute  that  generous  soil ; 

That  soil  impregnated  with  nobler  seed 

Refused  the  culture  of  so  rank  a  weed. 

Elate  with  wealth  in  active  commerce  won, 

And  basking  in  the  smile  of  fortune's  sun ; 

For  many  freighted  ships  from  shore  to  shore, 

Their  wealthy  charge  by  his  appointment  bore  ; 

With  scorn  the  parent  eyed  the  lowly  shade 

That  veil'd  the  beauties  of  this  charming  maid. 


24  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [274 

He,  by  the  lust  of  riches  only  moved, 
Such  mean  connexions  haughtily  reproved ; 
Indignant  he  rebuked  the  enamour'd  boy, 
The  flattering  promise  of  his  future  joy ; 
He  soothed  and  menaced,  anxious  to  reclaim 
This  hopeless  passion,  or  divert  its  aim : 
Oft  led  the  youth  where  circling  joys  delight 
The  ravish'd  sense,  or  beauty  charms  the  sight. 
With  all  her  powers  enchanting  music  fail'd, 
And  pleasure's  syren  voice  no  more  prevail'd : 
Long  with  unequal  art,  in  vain  he  strove 
To  quench  the  ethereal  flame  of  ardent  love. 

The  merchant,  kindling  then  with  proud  disdain, 
In  look,  and  voice,  assumed  a  harsher  strain. 
In  absence  now  his  only  hope  remain'd  ; 
And  such  the  stern  decree  his  will  ordain'd : 
Deep  anguish,  while  Palemon  heard  his  doom, 
Drew  o'er  his  lovely  face  a  saddening  gloom ; 
High  beat  his  heart,  fast  flow'd  the  unbidden  tear, 
His  bosom  heaved  with  agony  severe ; 
In  vain  with  bitter  sorrow  Ii3  repined, 
No  tender  pity  touch'd  that  sordid  mind  — 
To  thee,  brave  Albert !  was  the  charge  consign'd. 
The  stately  ship  forsaking  England's  shore 
To  regions  far  remote  Palemon  bore. 
Incapable  of  change,  the  unhappy  youth 


300]  CANTO   I.  25 

Still  loved  fair  Anna  with  eternal  truth ; 
Still  Anna's  image  swiins  before  his  sight 
In  fleeting  vision  through  the  restless  night ;    • 
From  clime  to  clime  an  exile  doom'd  to  roam, 
His  heart  still  panted  for  its  secret  home. 

The  moon  had  circled  twice  her  wayward  zone, 
To  him  since  young  Arion  first  was  known ; 
Who  wandering  here  through  many  a   scene   re- 

nown'd, 

In  Alexandria's  port  the  vessel  found ; 
Where,  anxious  to  review  his  native  shore, 
He  on  the  roaring  wave  embark'd  once  more. 
Oft  by  pale  Cynthia's  melancholy  light 
With  him  Palemon  kept  the  watch  of  night, 
In  whose  sad  bosom  many  a  sigh  supprest 
Some  painful  secret  of  the  soul  confest : 
Perhaps  Arion  soon  the  cause  divined, 
Though  shunning  still  to  probe  a  wounded  mind ; 
He  felt  the  chastity  of  silent  woe, 
Though  glad  the  balm  of  comfort  to  bestow. 
He  with  Palemon  oft  recounted  o'er 
The  tales  of  hapless  love  in  ancient  lore, 
Recall'd  to  memory  by  the  adjacent  shore : 
The  scene  thus  present,  and  its  story  known, 
The  lover  sigh'd  for  sorrows  not  his  own. 
Thus,  though  a  recent  date  their  friendship  bore, 


26  THE   SHIPWRECK.  1.325 

Soon  the  ripe  metal  own'd  the  quickening  ore ; 
For  in  one  tide  their  passions  seem'd  to  roll, 
By  kindred  age  and  sympathy  of  soul. 

These  o'er  the  inferior  naval  train  preside, 
The  course  determine,  or  the  commerce  guide : 
O'er  all  the  rest,  an  undistinguish'd  crew, 
Her  wing  of  deepest  shade  oblivion  drew. 

III.  A  sullen  languor  still  the  skies  opprest, 
And  held  the  unwilling  ship  in  strong  arrest : 
High  in  his  chariot  glow'd  the  lamp  of  day, 
O'er  Ida  flaming  with  meridian  ray ; 
Relax'd  from  toil,  the  sailors  range  the  shore, 
Where  famine,  war,  and  storm  are  felt  no  more ; 
The  hour  to  social  pleasure  they  resign, 
And  black  remembrance  drown  in  generous  wine. 
On  deck,  beneath  the  shading  canvas  spread, 
Rodmond  a  rueful  tale  of  wonders  read 
Of  dragons  roaring  on  the  enchanted  coast ; 
The  hideous  goblin,  and  the  yelling  ghost : 
But  with  Arion,  from  the  sultry  heat 
Of  noon,  Palemon  sought  a  cool  retreat.  — 
And  lo !  the  shore  with  mournful  prospects  crown'd, 
The  rampart  torn  with  many  a  fatal  wound, 
The  ruin'd  bulwark  tottering  o'er  the  strand, 
Bewail  the  stroke  of  Avar's  tremendous  hand : 
What  scenes  of  woe  this  hapless  isle  o'erspread ! 


351]  CANTO    I.  27 

Where  late  thrice  fifty  thousand  warriors  bled. 
Full  twice  twelve  summers  were  yon  towers  assail'd, 
Till  barbarous  Ottoman  at  last  prevail'd ; 
While  thundering  mines  the  lovely  plains  o'erturn'd, 
While  heroes  fell,  and  domes  and  temples  burn'd. 

But  now  before  them  happier  scenes  arise, 
Elysian  vales  salute  their  ravish'd  eyes ; 
Olive,  and  cedar,  form'd  a  grateful  shade 
Where  light,  with  gay  romantic  error  stray'd : 
The  myrtles  here  with  fond  caresses  twine, 
There,  rich  with  nectar,  melts  the  pregnant  vine : 
And  lo !  the  stream,  renown'd  in  classic  song, 
Sad  Lethe,  glides  the  silent  vale  along. 
On  mossy  banks,  beneath  the  citron  grove, 
The  youthful  wanderers  found  a  wild  alcove ; 
Soft  o'er  the  fairy  region  languor  stole, 
And  with  sweet  melancholy  charm'd  the  soul. 
Here  first  Palemon,  while  his  pensive  mind 
For  consolation  on  his  friend  reclined, 
In  pity's  bleeding  bosom,  pour'd  the  stream 
Of  love's  soft  anguish,  and  of  grief  supreme  : 
"  Too    true    thy    Avords !    by   sweet    remembrance 

taught, 

My  heart  in  secret  bleeds  with  tender  thought ; 
In  vain  it  courts  the  solitary  shade, 
By  every  action,  every  look  betray'd : 


28  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [3"f 

The  pride  of  generous  woe  disdains  appeal 
To  heai'ts  that  unrelenting  frosts  congeal ; 
Yet  sure,  if  right  Paleraon  can  divine, 
The  sense  of  gentle  pity  dwells  in  thine : 
Yes !  all  his  cares  thy  sympathy  shall  know, 
And  prove  the  kind  companion  of  his  woe. 

"Albert   thou   know'st,   with    skill    and    science 

graced ; 

In  humble  station  though  by  fortune  placed, 
Yet  never  seaman  more  serenely  brave 
Led  Britain's  conquering  squadrons  o'er  the  wave : 
Where  full  in  view  Augusta's  spires  are  seen 
With  flowery  lawns,  and  waving  woods  between, 
An  humble  habitation  rose,  beside 
Where  Thames  meandering  rolls  his  ample  tide : 
There  live  the  hope  and  pleasure  of  his  life, 
A  pious  daughter,  and  a  faithful  wife : 
For  his  return  with  fond  officious  care 
Still  every  grateful  object  these  prepare : 
Whatever  can  allure  the  smell  or  sight, 
Or  wake  the  drooping  spirits  to  delight. 

"  This  blooming  maid  in  virtue's  path  to  guide 
The  admiring  parents  all  their  care  applied ; 
Her  spotless  soul  to  soft  affection  train'd, 
No  voice  untuned,  no  sickening  folly  stain'd : 
Not  fairer  grows  the  lily  of  the  vale, 


401]  CAXTO   I.  29 

Whose  bosom  opens  to  the  vernal  gale : 
Her  eyes,  unconscious  of  their  fatal  charms, 
Thrill'd  every  heart  with  exquisite  alarms : 
Her  face,  in  beauty's  sweet  attraction  drest, 
The  smile  of  maiden  innocence  exprest ; 
While  health,  that  rises  with  the  new-born  day, 
Breathed  o'er  her  cheek  the  softest  blush  of  May : 
Still  in  her  look  complacence  smiled  serene ; 
She  moved  the  charmer  of  the  rural  scene ! 

"'Twas  at  that  season,  when  the  fields  resume 
Their  loveliest  hues,  array'd  in  vernal  bloom  : 
Yon  ship,  rich  freighted  from  the  Italian  shore, 
To  Thames'  fair  banks  her  costly  tribute  bore : 
While  thus  my  father  saw  his  ample  hoard, 
From  this  return,  with  recent  treasures  stored ; 
Me,  with  affairs  of  commerce  charged,  he  sent 
To  Albert's  humble  mansion  —  soon  I  went ! 
Too  soon,  alas !  unconscious  of  the  event. 
There,  struck  with  sweet  surprise  and  silent  awe, 
The  gentle  mistress  of  my  hopes  I  saw  ; 
There,  wounded  first  by  love's  resistless  arms, 
My  glowing  bosom  throbb'd  with  strange  alarms : 
My  ever  charming  Anna !  who  alone 
Can  all  the  frowns  of  cruel  fate  atone; 
Oh !  while  all-conscious  memory  holds  her  power, 
Can  I  forget  that  sweetly-painful  hour, 


30  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [427 

When     from    those    eyes,    with    lovely    lightning 

fraught, 

My  fluttering  spirits  first  the  infection  caught  ? 
When,  as  I  gazed,  my  faltering  tongue  betray'd 
The  heart's  quick  tumults,  or  refused  its  aid ; 
While  the  dim  light  my  ravish'd  eyes  forsook, 
And  every  limb,  unstrung  with  terror,  shook : 
With  all  her  powers,  dissenting  reason  strove 
To  tame  at  first  the  kindling  flame  of  love  : 
She  strove  in  vain ;  subdued  by  charms  divine, 
My  soul  a  victim  fell  at  beauty's  shrine. 
Oft  from  the  din  of  bustling  life  I  stray'd, 
In  happier  scenes  to  see  my  lovely  maid ; 
Full  oft,  where  Thames  his  wandering  current  leads, 
We  roved  at  evening  hour  through  flowery  meads  ; 
There,  while  my  heart's  soft  anguish  I  reveal'd, 
To  her  with  tender  sighs  my  hope  appeal'd : 
While  the  sweet  nymph  my  faithful  tale  believed, 
Her  snowy  breast  with  secret  tumult  heaved ; 
For,  train'd  in  rural  scenes  from  earliest  youth, 
Nature  was  hers,  and  innjQence,  and  truth: 
She  never  knew  the  city  damsel's  art, 
Whose  frothy  pertness  charms  the  vacant  heart.  — 
My  suit  prevail'd !  for  love  inform'd  my  tongue, 
And  on  his  votary's  lips  persuasion  hung. 
Her  eyes  with  conscious  sympathy  withdrew, 


452]  CANTO   I.  31 

And  o'er  her  cheek  the  rosy  current  flew. 

Thrice  happy  hours !  where  with  no  dark  allay 

Life's  fairest  sunshine  gilds  the  vernal  day  : 

For  here  the  sigh,  that  soft  affection  heaves, 

From  stings  of  sharper  AVOC  the  soul  relieves  : 

Elysian  scenes  !  too  happy  long  to  last, 

Too  soon  a  storm  the  smiling  dawn  o'ercast : 

Too  soon  some  demon  to  my  father  bore 

The  tidings,  that  his  heart  with  anguish  tore. 

My  pride  to  kindle,  with  dissuasive  voice 

AAvhile  he  labour'd  to  degrade  my  choice : 

Then,  in  the  whirling  wave  of  pleasure,  sought 

From  its  loved  object  to  divert  my  thought  : 

With  equal  hope  he  might  attempt  to  bind 

In  chains  of  adamant  the  lawless  wind ; 

For  love  had  aim'd  the  fatal  shaft  too  sure, 

Hope  fed  the  wound,  and  absence  knew  no  cure. 

With  alienated  look,  each  art  he  saw 

Still  baffled  by  superior  nature's  law. 

His  anxious  mind  on  various  schemes  revolved, 

At  last  on  cruel  exile  he  resolved : 

The  rigorous  doom  was  fix'd ;  alas  !  how  vain 

To  him  of  tender  anguish  to  complain  : 

His  soul,  that  never  love's  sweet  influence  felt, 

By  social  sympathy  could  never  melt ; 

With  stern  command  to  Albert's  charge  he  gave 


32  THE    SHIPWKECK.  f 

To  waft  Palemon  o'er  the  distant  wave. 

"  The  ship  was  laden  and  pi'epared  to  sail, 
And  only  waited  now  the  leading  gale  : 
'T  was  ours,  in  that  sad  period,  first  to  prove 
The  poignant  torments  of  despairing  love ; 
The  impatient  wish,  that  never  feels  repose, 
Desire,  that  with  perpetual  current  flows ; 
The  fluctuating  pangs  of  hope  and  fear, 
Joy  distant  still,  and  sorrow  ever  near. 
Thus,  while  the  pangs  of  thought  severer  grew, 
The  western  breezes  inauspicious  blew, 
Hastening  the  moment  of  our  last  adieu. 
The  vessel  parted  on  the  falling  tide, 
Yet  tune  one  sacred  hour  to  love  supplied : 
The  night  was  silent,  and  advancing  fast, 
The  moon  o'er  Thames  her  silver  mantle  cast; 
Impatient  hope  the  midnight  path  explored, 
And  led  me  to  the  nymph  my  soul  adored. 
Soon  her  quick  footsteps  struck  my  listening  ear, 
She  came  confest !  the  lovely  maid  drew  near ! 
But,  ah !  what  force  of  language  can  impart 
The  impetuous  joy  that  glow'd  in  either  heart : 
O  ye !  whose  melting  hearts  are  form'd  to  prove 
The  trembling  ecstasies  of  genuine  love  ; 
When,  with  delicious  agony,  the  thought 
Is  to  the  verge  of  high  delirium  wrought ; 


504]  CAXTO   I.  33 

Your  secret  sympathy  alone  can  tell 
What  raptures  then  the'throbbing  bosom  swell : 
O'er  all  the  nerves  what  tender  tumults  roll, 
While  love  with  sweet  enchantment  melts  the  soul. 

"  In  transport  lost,  by  trembling  hope  imprest, 
The  blushing  virgin  sunk  upon  my  breast, 
While  hers  congenial  beat  with  fond  alarms ; 
Dissolving  softness  !     Paradise  of  charms  ! 
Flash'd  from  our  eyes,  in  warm  transfusion  flew 
Our  blending  spirits  that  each  other  drew  ! 
O  bliss  supreme !  where  virtue's  self  can  melt 
With  joys,  that  guilty  pleasure  never  felt ; 
Form'd  to  refine  the  thought  with  chaste  desire, 
And  kindle  sweet  affection's  purest  fire. 
Ah !  wherefore  should  my  hopeless  love,  she  cries,  — 
While  sorrow  bursts  with  interrupting  sighs,  — 
For  ever  destined  to  lament  in  vain, 
Such  flattering,  fond  ideas  entertain : 
My  heart  through  scenes  of  fair  illusion  stray'd, 
To  joys,  decreed  for  some  superior  maid. 
'Tis  mine  abandon'd  to  severe  distress 
Still  to  complain,  and  never  hope  redress  — 
Go  then,  dear  youth !  thy  father's  rage  atone, 
And  let  this  tortured  bosom  beat  alone. 
The  hovering  anger  yet  thou  may'st  appease ; 
Go  then,  dear  youth !  nor  tempt  the  faithless  seas. 


84  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [530 

Find  out  some  happier  maid,  whose  equal  charms 

With  fortune's  fairer  joys,  may  bless  thy  arms : 

Where,  smiling  o'er  thee  with  indulgent  ray, 

Prosperity  shall  hail  each  new-born  day : 

Too  well  thou  know'st  good  Albert's  niggard  fate 

111  fitted  to  sustain  thy  father's  hate. 

Go  then,  I  charge  thee  by  thy  generous  love, 

That  fatal  to  my  father  thus  may  prove ; 

On  me  alone  let  dark  affliction  fall, 

Whose  heart  for  thee  will  gladly  suffer  all. 

Then  haste  thee  hence,  Palemon,  ere  too  late, 

Nor  rashly  hope  to  brave  opposing  fate. 

"  She  ceased :  while  anguish  in  her  angel-face 
O'er  all  her  beauties  shower'd  celestial  grace : 
Not  Helen,  in  her  bridal  charms  array'd, 
Was  half  so  lovely  as  this  gentle  maid.  — 
O  soul  of  ah1  my  wishes  !  I  replied, 
Can  that  soft  fabric  stem  affliction's  tide  ? 
Canst  thou,  bright  pattern  of  exalted  truth, 
To  sorrow  doom  the  summer  of  thy  youth, 
And  I,  ingrateful !  all  that  sweetness  see 
Consign'd  to  lasting  misery  for  me  ? 
Sooner  this  moment  may  the  eternal  doom 
Palemon  in  the  silent  earth  entomb  ; 
Attest,  thou  moon,  fair  regent  of  the  night ! 
Whose  lustre  sickens  at  this  mournful  sight : 


556]  CAXTO   I.  35 

By  all  the  pangs  divided  lovers  feel, 
Which  sweet  possession  only  knows  to  heal : 
By  all  the  horrors  brooding  o'er  the  deep, 
Where  fate,  and  ruin,  sad  dominion  keep ; 
Though  tyrant  duty  o'er  me  threatening  stands, 
And  claims  obedience  to  her  stern  commands, 
Should  fortune,  cruel  or  auspicious  prove, 
Her  smile,  or  frown,  shall  never  change  my  love  ; 
My  heart,  that  now  must  every  joy  resign, 
Incapable  of  change,  is  only  thine. 

"  Oh,  cease  to  weep,  this  storm  will  yet  decay, 
And  the  sad  clouds  of  sorrow  melt  away : 
While  through  the  rugged  path  of  life  we  go, 
All  mortals  taste  the  bitter  draught  of  woe. 
The  famed  and  great,  decreed  to  equal  pain, 
Full  oft  in  splendid  wretchedness  complain : 
For  this,  prosperity,  with  brighter  ray 
In  smiling  contrast  gilds  our  vital  day. 
Thou  too,  sweet  maid!  ere  twice  ten  months  are 

o'er, 

Shall  hail  Palemon  to  his  native  shore, 
Where  never  interest  shall  divide  us  more.  — 

"Her   struggling  soul,  o'erwhelm'd  with   tender 

grief, 

Now  found  an  interval  of  short  relief : 
So  melts  the  surface  of  the  frozen  stream 


36  THE    SHIPWRECK. 

Beneath  the  wintry  sun's  departing  beam. 
With  cruel  haste  the  shades  of  night  withdrew, 
And  gave  the  signal  of  a  sad  adieu  : 
As  on  my  neck  the  afflicted  maiden  hung, 
A  thousand  racking  doubts  her  spirit  wrung ; 
She  wept  the  terrors  of  the  fearful  wave, 
Too  oft,  alas  !  the  wandering  lover's  grave : 
With  soft  persuasion  I  dispell'd  her  fear, 
And  from  her  cheek  beguiled  the  falling  tear. 
While  dying  fondness  languish'd  in  her  eyes, 
She  pour'd  her  soul  to  heaven  in  suppliant  sighs : 
'  Look  down  with  pity,  O  ye  powers  above ! 
Who  hear  the  sad  complaint  of  bleeding  love  ; 
Ye,  who  the  secret  laws  of  fate  explore, 
Alone  can  tell  if  he  returns  no  more  ; 
Or  if  the  hour  of  future  joy  remain, 
Long-wish'd  atonement  of  long-suffer'd  pain, 
Bid  every  guardian  minister  attend, 
And  from  all  ill  the  much-loved  youth  defend.' 
With  grief  o'erwhelm'd  we  parted  twice  in  vain, 
And,  urged  by  strong  attraction,  met  again. 
At  last,  by  cruel  fortune  torn  apart 
While  tender  passion  beat  in  either  heart, 
Our  eyes  transfix'd  with  agonizing  look, 
One  sad  farewell,  one  last  embrace  we  took. 
Forlorn  of  hope  the  lovely  maid  I  left, 


606]  CANTO   I.  37 

Pensive  and  pale,  of  every  joy  bereft : 
She  to  her  silent  couch  retired  to  we,ep, 
Whilst  I  embark'd,  in  sadness,  on  the  deep." 

His  tale  thus  closed,  from  sympathy  of  grief 
Palemon's  bosom  felt  a  sweet  relief : 
To  mutual  friendship  thus  sincerely  true, 
No  secret  wish,  or  fear,  their  bosoms  knew ; 
In  mutual  hazards  oft  severely  tried, 
Nor  hope,  nor  danger,  could  their  love  divide. 

Ye  tender  maids !  in  whose  pathetic  souls 
Compassion's  sacred  stream  impetuous  rolls, 
Whose  warm  affections  exquisitely  feel 
The  secret  wound  you  tremble  to  reveal ; 
Ah !  may  no  wanderer  of  the  stormy  main 
Pour  through  your  breasts  the  soft  delicious  bane ; 
May  never  fatal  tenderness  approve 
The  fond  effusions  of  their  ardent  love : 
OJi !  warn'd,  avoid  the  path  that  leads  to  woe, 
Where  thorns,  and  baneful  weeds,  alternate  grow ; 
Let  them  severer  stoic  nymphs  possess, 
Whose  stubborn  passions  feel  no  soft  distress. 

Now  as  the  youths  returning  o'er  the  plain 
Approach'd  the  lonely  margin  of  the  main, 
First,  with  attention  roused,  Arion  eyed 
The  graceful  lover,  form'd  in  nature's  pride : 
His  frame  the  happiest  symmetry  display'd, 


38  THE    SHIPAVTCECK.  [632 

And  locks  of  waving  gold  his  neck  array'd ; 

In  every  look  the  Paphian  graces  shine, 

Soft  breathing  o'er  his  cheek  their  bloom  divine : 

With  lighten'd  heart  he  smiled  serenely  gay, 

Like  young  Adonis,  or  the  son  of  May. 

Not  Cytherea  from  a  fairer  swain 

Received  her  apple  on  the  Trojan  plain. 

IV.  The  sun's  bright  orb,  declining  all  serene, 
Now  glanced  obliquely  o'er  the  woodland  scene : 
Creation  smiles  around ;  on  every  spray 
The  warbling  birds  exalt  their  evening  lay : 
Blithe  skipping  o'er  yon  hill,  the  fleecy  train 
Join  the  deep  chorus  of  the  lowing  plain ; 
The  golden  lime,  and  orange,  there  were  seen 
On  fragrant  branches  of  perpetual  green  ; 
The  crystal  streams  that  velvet  meadows  lave, 
To  the  green  ocean  roll  with  chiding  wave. 
The  glassy  ocean  hush'd  forgets  to  roar, 
But  trembling  murmurs  on  the  sandy  shore : 
And  lo !  his  surface  lovely  to  behold 
Glows  in  the  west,  a  sea  of  Kving  gold ! 
While,  all  above,  a  thousand  liveries  gay 
The  skies  with  pomp  ineffable  array. 
Arabian  sweets  perfume  the  happy  plains ; 
Above,  beneath,  around,  enchantment  reigns  ! 
While  glowing  Vesper  leads  the  starry  train, 


658]  CAKTO  I.  3 

And  night  slow  draws  her  veil  o'er  land  and  main, 
-Emerging  clouds  the  azure  east  invade, 
And  wrap  the  lucid  spheres  in  gradual  shade ; 
"While  yet  the  songsters  of  the  vocal  grove, 
With  dying  numbers  tune  the  soul  to  love : 
"With  joyful  eyes  the  attentive  master  sees 
The  auspicious  omens  of  an  eastern  breeze. 
Round  the  charged  bowl  the  sailors  form  a  ring ; 
By  turns  recount  the  wondrous  tale,  or  sing, 
As  love,  or  battle,  hardships  of  the  main, 
Or  genial  wine,  awake  the  homely  strain : 
Then  some  the  watch  of  night  alternate  keep, 
The  rest  lie  buried  in  oblivious  sleep. 
Deep  midnight  now  involves  the  livid  skies, 
When  eastern  breezes,  yet  enervate,  rise : 
The  waning  moon  behind  a  watery  shroud 
Pale  glimmer'd  o'er  the  long  protracted  cloud ; 
A  mighty  halo  round  her  silver  throne, 
With  parting  meteors  cross'd,  portentous  shone : 
This  in  the  troubled  sky  full  oft  prevails, 
Oft  deem'd  a  signal  of  tempestuous  gales. 

While  young  Arion  sleeps,  before  his  sight 
Tumultuous  swim  the  visions  of  the  night: 
Now,  blooming  Anna  with  her  happy  swain 
Approach'd  the  sacred  hymeneal  fane  ; 
Anon,  tremendous  lightnings  flash  between, 


40  THE    SHIPWRECK.  {684 

And  funei'al  pomp,  and  weeping  loves  are  seen : 
Now  with  Palemon,  up  a  rocky  steep, 
Whose  summit  trembles  o'er  the  roaring  deep, 
"With  painful  step  he  climb'd ;  while  far  above 
Sweet  Anna  charm'd  them  with  the  voice  of  love : 
Then  sudden  from  the  slippery  height  they  fell, 
While  dreadful  yawn'd,  beneath,  the  jaws  of  hell.  — 
Amid  this  fearful  trance,  a  thundering  sound 
He  hears,  and  thrice  the  hollow  decks  rebound ; 
Upstarting  from  his  couch  on  deck  he  sprung, 
Tlirice   with    shrill    note    the    boatswain's    whistle 

rung : 

All  hands  unmoor !  proclaims  a  boisterous  cry, 
All  hands  unmoor !  the  cavern'd  rocks  reply : 
Roused  from  repose  aloft  the  sailors  swarm, 
And  with  their  levers  soon  the  windlass  arm : 
The  order  given,  up  springing  with  a  bound, 
They  fix  the  bars,  and  heave  the  windlass  round ; 
At  every  turn  the  clanging  pauls  resound ; 
Up-torn"  reluctant  from  its  oozy  cave 
The  ponderous  anchor  rises  g'er  the  wave. 
High  on  the  slippery  masts  the  yards  ascend, 
And  far  abroad  the  canvas  wings  extend. 
Along  the  glassy  plain  the  vessel  glides, 
While  azure  radiance  trembles  on  her  sides ; 
The  lunar  rays  in  long  reflection  gleam, 


709]  CANTO   I.  41 

With  silver  deluging  the  fluid  stream. 
Levant,  and  Thracian  gales,  alternate  play, 
Then  in  the  Egyptian  quarter  die  away. 
A  calm  ensues ;  adjacent  shores  they  dread, 
The  boats,  with  rowers  mann'd,  are  sent  ahead ; 
With  cordage  fasten'd  to  the  lofty  prow 
Aloof  to  sea  the  stately  ship  they  tow ; 
The  nervous  crew  their  sweeping  oars  extend, 
And  pealing  shouts  the  shore  of  Candia  rend : 
Success  attends  their  skill!  the  danger's  o'er! 
The  port  is  doubled,  and  beheld  no  more. 

Now  morn  with  gradual  pace  advanced  on  high, 
Whitening  with  orient  beam  the  twilight  sky : 
She  comes  not  in  refulgent  pomp  array'd, 
But  frowning  stern,  and  wrapt  in  sullen  shade. 
Above  incumbent  mists,  tall  Ida's  height, 
Tremendous  rock !  emerges  on  the  sight ; 
North-east,  a  league,  the  Isle  of  Standia  bears, 
And  westward,  Freschin's  woody  Cape  appears. 

In  distant"  angles  while  the  transient  gales 
Alternate  blow,  they  trim  the  flagging  sails ; 
The  drowsy  air  attentive  to  retain, 
As  from  unnumber'd  points  it  sweeps  the  main. 
Now  swelling  stud-sails  on  each  side  extend, 
Then  stay-sails  sidelong  to  the  breeze  ascend ; 
While  all,  to  court  the  veering  winds,  are  placed 


42  THE    SHIPWRECK  L735 

"With  yards  alternate  square,  and  sharply  braced. 

The  dim  horizon  lowering  vapours  shroud, 
And  blot  the  sun  yet  struggling  in  the  cloud ; 
Thro'  the  wide  atmosphere  condensed  with  haze, 
His  glaring  orb  emits  a  sanguine  blaze. 
The  pilots  now  their  azimuth  attend, 
On  which  all  courses,  duly  form'd,  depend : 
The  compass  placed  to  catch  the  rising  ray, 
The  quadrant's  shadows  studious  they  survey ; 
Along  the  arch  the  gradual  index  slides, 
While  Pho3bus  down  the  vertic-circle  glides ; 
Now  seen  on  ocean's  utmost  verge  to  swim, 
He  sweeps  it  vibrant  with  his  nether  limb. 
Thus  height,  and  polar  distance  are  obtain'd, 
Then  latitude,  and  declination,  gain'd ; 
In  chiliads  next  the  analogy  is  sought, 
And  on  the  sinical  triangle  wrought : 
By  this  magnetic  variance  is  explored, 
Just  angles  known,  and  polar  truth  restored. 

The  natives,  while  the  ship  departs  tlfeir  land, 
Ashore  with  admiration  gazing  stand. 
Majestically  slow  before  the  breeze 
She  moved  triumphant  o'er  the  yielding  seas ; 
Her  bottom  through  translucent  waters  shone, 
White  as  the  clouds  beneath  the  blaze  of  noon ; 
The  bending  wales  their  contrast  next  display'd, 


761J  CANTO    I.  43 

All  fore  and  aft  iu  polish'd  jet  array'd. 
Britannia,  riding  awfuf  on  the  prow, 
Gazed  o'er  the  vassal  waves  that  roll'd  below : 
Where'er  she  moved  the  vassal  waves  were  seen 

• 

To  yield  obsequious,  and  confess  their  queen. 
The  imperial  trident  graced  her  dexter  hand, 
Of  power  to  rule  the  surge  like  Moses'  wand ; 
The  eternal  empire  of  the  main  to  keep, 
And  guide  her  squadrons  o'er  the  trembling  deep. 
Her  left,  propitious,  bore  a  mystic  shield, 
Around  whose  margin  rolls  the  watery  field ; 
There  her  bold  genius  in  his  floating  car 
O'er  the  wild  billow  hurls  the  storm  of  war : 
And  lo !  the  beasts  that  oft  with  jealous  rage 
In  bloody  combat  met,  from  age  to  age, 
Tamed  into  union,  yoked  in  friendship's  chain, 
Draw  his  proud  chariot  round  the  vanquish'd  main : 
From  the  proud  margin  to  the  centre  grew 
Shelves,  rocks,  and  whirlpools,  hideous  to  the  view. 
The  immortal  shield  from  Neptune  she  received, 
When  first  her  head  above  the  waters  heaved  ; 
Loose  floated  o'er  her  limbs  an  azure  vest, 
A  figured  scutcheon  glitter'd  on  her  breast ; 
There  from  one  parent  soil,  for  ever  young, 
The  blooming  rose  and  hardy  thistle  sprung. 
Around  her  head  an  oaken  wreath  was  seen, 


44  THE    SHIPWRECK.  I "87 

Inwove  with  laurels  of  unfading  green. 

Such  was  the  sculptured  prow ;  from  van  to  rear 
The  artillery  frowu'd,  a  black  tremendous  tier ! 

Embalm'd  with  orient  gum,  above  the  wave 

• 

The  swelling  sides  a  yellow  radiance  gave. 

On  the  broad  stern,  a  pencil  warm  and  bold, 

That  never  servile  rules  of  art  controll'd, 

An  allegoric  tale  on  high  portray'd ; 

There  a  young  hero,  here  a  royal  maid : 

Fair  England's  genius  in  the  youth  exprest, 

Her  ancient  foe,  but  now  her  friend  confest, 

The  warlike  nymph  with  fond  regard  survey'd ; 

No  more  his  hostile  frown  her  heart  dismay'd : 

His  look,  that  once  shot  terror  from  afar, 

Like  young  Alcides,  or  the  god  of  war, 

Serene  as  summer's  evening  skies  she  saw ; 

Serene,  yet  firm  ;  though  mild,  impressing  awe : 

Her  nervous  arm,  inured  to  toils  severe, 

Brandish'd  the  unconquer'd  Caledonian  spear  : 

The  dreadful  falchion  of  the  hills  she  wore, 

Sung  to  the  harp  in  many  a  vale  of  yore, 

That  oft  her  rivers  dyed  with  hostile  gore. 

Blue  was  her  rocky  shield ;  her  piercing  eye 

Flash'd  like  the  meteors  of  her  native  sky ; 

Her  crest,  high-plumed,  was  rough  with  many  a  scar, 

And  o'er  her  helmet  gleam'd  the  northern  star. 


813]  CANTO    I.  45 

The  warrior  youth  appear'd  of  noble  frame, 
The  hardy  offspring  of  some  Runic  dame : 
Loose  o'er  his  shoulders  hung  the  slacken'd  bow, 
Renown'd  in  song,  the  terror  of  the  foe ! 
The  sword  that  oft  the  barbarous  north  defied, 
The  scourge  of  tyrants  !  glitter'd  by  his  side  : 
Clad  iii  refulgent  arms  in  battle  won, 
The  George  emblazon'd  on  his  corselet  shone ; 
Fast  by  his  side  was  seen  a  golden  lyre, 
Pregnant  with  numbers  of  eternal  fire ; 
Whose  strings  unlock  the  witches'  midnight  spell, 
Or  waft  rapt  fancy  through  the  gulfs  of  hell : 
Struck  with  contagion,  kindling  fancy  hears 
The  songs  of  heaven,  the  music  of  the  spheres ! 
Borne  on  Newtonian  wing  through  air  she  flies, 
"Wliere  other  suns  to  other  systems  rise. 

These  front  the  scene  conspicuous ;  overhead 
Albion's  proud  oak  his  filial  branches  spread : 
While  on  the  sea-beat  shore  obsequious  stood, 
Beneath  their  feet,  the  father  of  the  flood : 
Here,  the  bold  native -of  her  cliffs  above, 
Perch'd  by  the  martial  maid  the  bird  of  Jove ; 
There,  on  the  watch,  sagacious  of  his  prey, 
With  eyes  of  fire,  an  English  mastiff  lay : 
Yonder,  fair  commerce  stretch'd  her  winged  sail, 
Here,  frown'd  the  god  that  wakes  the  living  gale. 


46  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [839 

High  o'er  the  poop,  the  flattering  winds  imfurL'd 

The  imperial  flag  that  rules  the  watery  world. 

Deep  blushing  armors  all  the  tops  invest, 

And  warlike  trophies  either  quarter  drest : 

Then  tower'd  the  masts,  the  canvas  swell'd  on  high, 

And  waving  streamers  floated  in  the  sky. 

Thus  the  rich  vessel  moves  in  trim  array, 

Like  some  fair  virgin  on  her  bridal  day ; 

Thus,  like  a  swan,  she  cleaved  the  watery  plain, 

The  pride  and  wonder  of  the  -ZEgean  main. 


SECOND    CANTO: 

THE  SCENE  LIES  AT  SEA,  BETWEEN  CAPE  FRESCHIN, 

IN    CANDIA,    AND    THE    ISLAND    OF 

FALCONERA,  WHICH  IS  NEARLY  TWELVE  LEAGUES 
NORTHWARD  OF  CAPE  SPADO. 

TIME,   FEOM   NINE  IN   THE  MORNING  UNTIL  ONE  O'CLOCK 
OF   THE  NEXT  DAY  AT   NOON. 


ARGUMENT. 

I.  Reflections  on  leaving  shore.  II.  Favourable  breeze.  Water- 
spout. The  dying  dolphin.  Breeze  freshens.  Ship's  rapid 
progress  along  the  coast.  Top-sails  reefed.  Gale  of  wind. 
Last  appearance,  bearing,  and  distance  of  Cape  Spado.  A 
squall.  Top-sails  double  reefed.  Main-sail  split.  The  ship 
bears  up;  again  hauls  upon  the  wind.  Another  main-sail 
bent,  and  set.  Porpoises.  III.  The  ship  driven  out  of  her 
course  from  Candia.  Heavy  gale.  Top-sails  furled.  Top- 
gallant-yards lowered.  Heavy  sea.  Threatening  sun-set. 
Difference  of  opinion  respecting  the  mode  of  taking  in  the 
main-sail.  Courses  reefed.  Four  seamen  lost  off  the  lee 
main-yard-arm.  Anxiety  of  the  master,  and  his  mates,  on 
being  near  a  lee-shore.  Mizzen  reefed.  IV.  A  tremendous 
sea  bursts  over  the  deck;  its  consequences.  The  ship  labours 
in  great  distress.  Guns  thrown  overboard.  Dismal  appear- 
ance of  the  weather.  Very  high  and  dangerous  sea.  Storm 
of  lightning.  Severe  fatigue  of  the  crew  at  the  pumps.  Criti- 
cal situation  of  the  ship  near  the  Island  Falconera.  Consulta- 
tion and  resolution  of  the  officers.  Speech  and  advice  of  Al- 
bert; his  devout  address  to  Heaven.  Order  given  to  scud. 
The  fore  stay-sail  hoisted  and  split.  The  head  yards  braced 
aback.  The  mizzen-mast  cut  away. 


THE    SHIPWRECK. 

CAXTO  H. 

I.   ADIEU!  ye  pleasures  of  the  sylvan  scene, 
Where  peace,  and  calm  contentment,  dwell  serene : 
To  me,  in  vain,  on  earth's  prolific  soil 
With  summer  crown'cl,  the  Elysian  valleys  smile  ; 
To  me  those  happier  scenes  no  joy  impart, 
But  tantalize  with  hope  my  aching  heart : 
Ye  tempests !  o'er  my  head  congenial  roll 
To  suit  the  mournful  music  of  my  soul ; 
In  black  progression,  lo,  they  hover  near, 
Hail  social  horrors !  like  my  fate  severe : 
Old  ocean  hail !  beneath  whose  azure  zone 
The  secret  deep  lies  unexplored,  unknown. 
Approach,  ye  brave  companions  of  the  sea ! 
And  fearless  view  this  awful  scene  with  me. 
Ye  native  guardians  of  your  country's  laws ! 
Ye  brave  assertors  of  her  sacred  cause ! 
The  muse  invites  you,  judge  if  she  depart, 
Unequal,  from  the  thorny  rules  of  art ; 
4 


50  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [19 

In  practice  train'd,  and  conscious  of  her  power, 
She  boldly  moves  to  meet  the  trying  hour : 
Her  voice  attempting  themes,  before  unknown 
To  music,  sings  distresses  all  her  own. 

II.  O'er  the  smooth  bosom  of  the  faithless  tides, 
Propell'd  by  flattering  gales,  the  vessel  glides  : 
Rodmond  exulting  felt  the  auspicious  wind, 
And  by  a  mystic  charm  its  aim  confined. 
The  thoughts  of  home,  that  o'er  his  fancy  roll, 
With  trembling  joy  dilate  Palemon's  soul ; 
Hope  lifts  his  heart,  before  whose  vivid  ray 
Distress  recedes,  and  danger  melts  away. 
Tall  Ida's  summit  now  more  distant  grew, 
And  Jove's  high  hill  was  rising  to  the  view 
When  on  the  larboard  quarter  they  descry 
A  liquid  column  towering  shoot  on  high ; 
The  foaming  base  the  angry  whirlwinds  sweep, 
Where  curling  billows  rouse  the  fearful  deep : 
Still  round,  and  round,  the  fluid  vortex  flies, 
Diffusing  briny  vapours  o'er  the  skies. 
This  vast  phenomenon,  whose  lofty  head, 
In  heaven  immersed,  embracing  clouds  o'erspread, 
In  spiral  motion  first,  as  seamen  deem, 
Swells,   when  the    raging  whirlwind    sweeps    the 

stream. 
The  swift  volution,  and  the  enormous  train, 


44]  CAXTO    II.  51 

Let  sages  versed  in  .nature's  lore  explain. 

The  horrid  apparition  still  draws  nigh, 

And  white  with  foam  the  whirling  billows  fly. 

The  guns  were  primed ;  the  vessel  northward  veers, 

Till  her  black  battery  on  the  column  bears  : 

The  nitre  'fired ;  and,  while  the  dreadful  sound 

Convulsive  shook  the  slumbering  air  around, 

The  watery  volume,  trembling  to  the  sky, 

Burst  down,  a  dreadful  deluge,  from  on  high ! 

The  expanding  ocean  trembled  as  it  fell, 

And  felt  with  swift  recoil  her  surges  swell ; 

But  soon,  this  transient  undulation  o'er, 

The  sea  subsides,  the  whirlwinds  rage  no  more. 

While  southward  now  the  increasing  breezes  veer, 

Dark  clouds  incumbent  on  their  wings  appear : 

Ahead  they  see  the  consecrated  grove 

Of  Cyprus,  sacred  once  to  Cretan  Jove. 

The  ship  beneath  her  lofty  pressure  reels, 

And  to  the  freshening  gale  still  deeper  heels. 

But  now,  beneath  the  lofty  vessel's  stern, 
A  shoal  of  sportive  dolphins  they  discern 
Beaming  from  burnish'd  scales  refulgent  rays, 
Till  all  the  glowing  ocean  seems  to  blaze : 
In  curling  wreaths  they  wanton  on  the  tide, 
Now  bound  aloft,  now  downward  swiftly  glide ; 
Awhile  beneath  the  waves  their  tracks  remain, 


52  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [70 

And  burn  in  silver  streams  along  the  liquid  plain. 
Soon  to  the  sport  of  death  the  crew  repair, 
Dart  the  long  lance,  or  spread  the  baited  snare. 
One  in  redoubling  mazes  wheels  along, 
And  glides  unhappy  near  the  triple  prong : 
Rodmond,  unerring,  o'er  his  head  suspends 
The  barbed  steel,  and  every  turn  attends ; 
Unerring  aim'd,  the  missile  weapon  flew, 
And,  plunging,  struck  the  fated  victim  through ; 
The  upturning  points  his  ponderous  bulk  sustain, 
On  deck  he  struggles  with  convulsive  pain  : 
But  while  his  heart  the  fatal  javelin  thrills, 
And  flitting  h'fe  escapes  in  sanguine  rills, 
What  radiant  changes  strike  the  astonish'd  sight ! 
What  glowing  hues  of  mingled  shade  and  light ! 
Not  equal  beauties  gild  the  lucid  west 
With  parting  beams  all  o'er  profusely  drest, 
Not  lovelier  colours  paint  the  vernal  dawn, 
When  orient  dews  impearl  the  enamell'd  lawn ; 
Than  from  his  sides  in  bright  suffusion  flow, 
That  now  with  gold  empyreal  seem  to  glow ; 
Now  in  pellucid  sapphires  meet  the  view, 
And  emulate  the  soft  celestial  hue ; 
Now  beam  a  flaming  crimson  on  the  eye, 
And  now  assume  the  purple's  deeper  dye : 
But  here  description  clouds  each  shining  ray  ; 


96]  CAXTO   II.  53 

"What  terms  of  art  can  nature's  powers  display ! 
The  lighter  sails,  .for  summer  winds  and  seas, 
Are  now  dismiss'd,  the  straining  masts  to  ease ; 
Swift  on  the  deck  the  stud-sails  all  descend, 
Which  ready  seamen  from  the  yards  unbend ; 
The  boats  then  hoisted  in  are  fix'd  on  board, 
And  on  the  deck  with  fastening  gripes  secured. 
The  watchful  ruler  of  the  helm  no  more 
"With  fix'd  attention  eyes  the  adjacent  shore, 
But  by  the  oracle  of  truth  below, 
The  wondrous  magnet,  guides  the  wayward  prow. 
The  powerful  sailsj  with  steady  breezes  swell'd, 
Swift  and  more  swift  the  yielding  bark  impell'd : 
Across  her  stem  the  parting  waters  run, 
As  clouds,  by  tempests  wafted,  pass  the  sun. 
Impatient  thus  she  darts  along  the  shore, 
Till  Ida's  mount,  and  Jove's,  are  seen  no  more ; 
And,  while  aloof  from  Retimo  she  steers, 
Maleca  foreland  full  in  front  appears. 
"Wide  o'er  yon  isthmus  stands  the  cypress  grove, 
That  once  inclosed  the  hallow'd  fane  of  Jove  ; 
Here  too,  memorial  of  his  name  !  is  found 
A  tomb  hi  marble  ruins  on  the  ground : 
This  gloomy  tyrant,  whose  despotic  sway 
Compell'd  the  trembling  nations  to  obey, 
Thro'  Greece  for  murder,  rape,  and  nicest  known, 


54  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [122 

The  muses  raised  to  high  Olympus'  throne ; 
For  oft,  alas !  their  venal  strains  adorn 
The  prince,  whom  blushing  virtue  holds  in  scorn : 
Still  Rome  and  Greece  record  his  endless  fame, 
And  hence  yon  mountain  yet  retains  his  name. 

But  see !  in  confluence  borne  before  the  blast, 
Clouds  roll'd  on  clouds  the  dusky  noon  o'ercast: 
The  blackening  ocean  curls,  the  winds  arise, 
And  the  dark  scud  in  swift  succession  flies. 
While  the  swoln  canvas  bends  the  masts  on  high, 
Low  in  the  wave  the  leeward  cannon  lie. 
The  master  calls,  to  give  the  ship  relief, 
The  top-sails  lower,  and  form  a  single  reef! 
Each  lofty  yard  with  slacken'd  cordage  reels  ; 
Rattle  the  creaking  blocks  and  ringing  wheels. 
Down  the  tall  masts  the  top-sails  sink  amain, 
Are  mann'd  and  reef  dj  then  hoisted  up  again. 
More  distant  grew  receding  Candia's  shore, 
And  southward  of  the  west  Cape  Spado  bore. 

Four  hours  the  sun  his  high  meridian  throne 
Had  left,  and  o'er  Atlantic  regions  shone  ; 
Still  blacker  clouds,  that  all  the  skies  invade, 
Draw  o'er  his  sullied  orb  a  dismal  shade  : 
A  lowering  squall  obscures  the  southern  sky, 
Before  whose  sweeping  breath  the  waters  fly ; 
Its  weight  the  top-sails  can  no  more  sustain  — 


148]  CANTO    II.  55 

Reef  top-sails,  reef!  the  master  calls  again. 
The  halyards  and  top-bow-lines  soon  are  gone;, 
To  clue-lines  and  reef-tackles  next  they  run : 
The  shivering  sails  descend ;  the  yards  are  square  j 
Then  quick  aloft  the  ready  crew  repair : 
The  weather-earings  and  the  lee  they  past, 
The  reefs  enroll'd,  and  every  point  made  fast. 
Their  task  above  thus  finished,  they  descend, 
And  vigilant  the  approaching  squall  attend : 
It  comes  resistless  !  and  with  foaming  sweep 
Upturns  the  whitening  surface  of  the  deep : 
In  such  a  tempest,  borne  to  deeds  of  death, 
The  wayward  sisters  scour  the  blasted  heath. 
The  clouds,  with  ruin  pregnant,  now  impend, 
And  storm,  and  cataracts,  tumultuous  blend. 
Deep,  on  her  side,  the  reeling  vessel  lies : 
Brail  up  the  mizzen  quick !  the  master  cries, 
Man  the  clue-garnets  !  let  the  main-sheet  fly  I 
It  rends  in  thousand  shivering  shreds  on  high ! 
The  main-sail  all  in  streaming  ruins  tore, 
Loud  fluttering,  imitates  the  thunder's  roar : 
The  ship  still  labours  in  the  oppressive  strain, 
Low  bending,  as  if  ne'er  to  rise  again. 
Bear  up  the  helm  a-weather !  Rodmond  cries : 
Swift  at  the  word  the  helm  a-weather  flies ; 
She  feels  its  guiding  power,  and  veers  apace, 


56  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [174 

And  now  the  fore-sail  right  athwart  they  brace : 
With  equal  sheets  restrain'cl,  the  bellying  sail 
Spreads  a  broad  concave  to  the  sweeping  gale. 
While  o'er  the  foam  the  ship  impetuous  "flies, 
The  helm  the  attentive  timoneer  applies : 
As  in  pursuit  along  the  aerial  way 
With  ardent  eye  the  falcon  marks  his  prey, 
Each  motion  watches  of  the  doubtful  chase, 
Obliquely  wheeling  through  the  fluid  space ; 
So,  govern'd  by  the  steersman's  glowing  hands, 
The  regent  helm  her  motion  still  commands. 

But  now  the  transient  squall  to  leeward  past, 
Again  she  rallies  to  the  sullen  blast : 
The  helm  to  starboard  moves ;  each  shivering  sail 
Is  sharply  trimm'd  to  clasp  the  augmenting  gale  — 
The  mizzen  draws ;  she  springs  aloof  once  more, 
While  the  fore  stay-sail  balances  before. 
The  fore-sail  braced  obliquely  to  the  wind, 
They  near  the  prow  the  extended  tac'k  confined ; 
Then  on  the  leeward  sheet  the  seamen  bend, 
And  haul  the  bow-line  to  the'  bowsprit-end : 
To  top-sails  next  they  haste  ;  the  bunt-lines  gone  ! 
Through  rattling  blocks  the  clue-lines  swiftly  run ; 
The  extending  sheets  on  either  side  are  mann'd, 
Abroad  they  come  !  the  fluttering  sails  expand ; 
The  yards  again  ascend  each  comrade  mast. 


200]  CAXTO    II.  57 

The  leeches  taught,  the  halyards  are  made  fast, 
The  bow-lines  haul'd,  and  yards  to  starboard  braced, 
And  straggling  ropes  in  pendant  order  placed. 

The  main-sail,  by  the  squall  so  lately  rent, 
In  streaming  pendants  flying,  is  unbent : 
"With  brails  refix'd,  another  soon  prepared, 
Ascending,  spreads  along  beneath  the  yard. 
To  each  yard-arm  the  head-rope  they  extend, 
And  soon  their  earings  and  their  robans  bend. 
That  task  perform'd,  they  first  the  braces  slack, 
Then  to  the  chesstree  drag  the  unwilh'ng  tack. 
And,  while  the  lee  clue-garnet's  lower'd  away, 
Taught  aft  the  sheet  they  tally,  and  belay. 

Now  to  the  north,  from  Afric's  burning  shore, 
A  troop  of  porpoises  their  course  explore  ; 
In  curling  wreaths  they  gambol  on  the  tide, 
Now  bound  aloft,  now  down  the  billow  glide : 
Their  tracks  awhile  the  hoary  waves  retain, 
That  burn  in  sparkling  trails  along  the  main  — 
These  fleetest  coursers  of  the  finny  race, 
"When  threatening  clouds  the  ethereal  vault  deface, 
Their  rout  to  leeward  still  sagacious  form, 
To  shun  the  fury  of  the  approaching  storm. 

III.  Fair  Candia  now  no  more  beneath  her  lee 
Protects  the  vessel  from  the  insulting  sea ; 
Round  her  broad  arms  impatient  of  control, 


58  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [226 

Roused  from  the  secret  deep,  the  billows  roll : 
Sunk  were  the  bulwarks  of  the  friendly  shore, 
And  all  the  scene  an  hostile  aspect  wore. 
The  flattering  wind,  that  late  with  promis'd  aid 
From  Candia's  bay  the  unwilling  ship  betray'd, 
No  longer  fawns  beneath  the  fair  disguise, 
But  like  a  ruffian  on  his  quarry  flies : 
Tost  on  the  tide  she  feels  the  tempest  blow, 
And  dreads  the  vengeance  of  so  fell  a  foe  — 
As  the  proud  horse  with  costly  trappings  gay, 
Exulting,  prances  to  the  bloody  fray ; 
Spurning  the  ground  he  glories  in  his  might, 
But  reels  tumultuous  in  the  shock  of  fight : 
E'en  so,  caparison'd  in  gaudy  pride, 
The  bounding  vessel  dances  on  the  tide. 

Fierce   and  more  fierce   the  gathering  tempest 

grew, 

South,  and  by  west,  the  threatening  demon  blew ; 
Auster's  resistless  force  all  air  invades, 
And  every  rolling  wave  more  ample  spreads : 
The  ship  no  longer  can  her  top-sails  bear ; 
No  hopes  of  milder  weather  now  appear. 
Bow-lines  and  halyards  are  cast  off  again, 
Clue-lines  haul'd  down,  and  sheets  let  fly  amain : 
Embrail'd  each  top-sail,  and  by  braces  squared, 
The  seamen  climb  aloft,  and  man  each  yard ; 


251]  CANTO    II.  59 

They  furl'd  the  sails,  and  pointed  to  the  wind 
The  yards,  by  rolling  tackles  then  confined, 
While  o'er  the  ship  the  gallant  boatswain  flies ; 
Like  a  hoarse  mastiff  through  the  storm  he  cries, 
Prompt  to  direct  the  unskilful  still  appears, 
The  expert  he  praises,  and  the  timid  cheers. 
Now  some,  to  strike  top-gallant-yards  attend, 
Some,  travellers  up  the  weather-back-stays  send, 
At  each  mast-head  the  top-ropes  others  bend : 
The  parrels,  lifts,  and  clue-lines  soon  are  gone, 
Topp'd  and  unrigg'd,  they  down  the  back-stays  run ; 
The  yards  secure  along  the  booms  were  laid, 
And  all  the  flying  ropes  aloft  belay 'd : 
Their  sails  reduced,  and  all  the  rigging  clear, 
Awhile  the  crew  relax  from  toils  severe ; 
Awhile  their  spirits  with  fatigue  opprest, 
In  vain  expect  the  alternate  hour  of  rest  — 
But  with  redoubling  force  the  tempests  blow, 
And  watery  hills  in  dread  succession  flow : 
A  dismal  shade  o'ercasts  the  frowning  skies, 
New  troubles  grow ;  fresh  difficulties  rise  ; 
No  season  this  from  duty  to  descend, 
All  hands  on  deck  must  now  the  storm  attend. 
His  race  perform'd,  the  sacred  lamp  of  day 
Now  dipt  in  western  clouds  his  parting  ray : 
His  languid  fires,  half  lost  in  ambient  haze, 


60  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [277 

Refract  along  the  dusk  a  crimson  blaze  ; 

Till  deep  immerged  the  sickening  orb  descend?, 

And  cheerless  night  o'er  heaven  her  reign  extends : 

Sad  evening's  hour,  how  different  from  the  past ! 

No  flaming  pomp,  no  blushing  glories  cast, 

Xo  ray  of  friendly  light  is  seen  around ; 

The  moon  and  stars  in  hopeless  shade  are  drown'd. 

The  ship  no  longer  can  whole  courses  bear, 
To  reef  them  now  becomes  the  master's  care  ; 
The  sailors,  summou'd  aft,  all  ready  stand, 
And  man  the  enfolding  brails  at  his  command : 
But  here  the  doubtful  officers  dispute, 
Till  skill,  and  judgment,  prejudice  confute : 
For  Rodmond,  to  new  methods  still  a  foe, 
"Would  first,  at  all  events,  the  sheet  let  go ; 
To  long-tried  practice  obstinately  warm, 
He  doubts  conviction,  and  relies  on  form. 
This  Albert  and  Arion  disapprove, 
And  first  to  brail  the  tack  up  firmly  move  : 
"  The  watchful  seaman,  whose  sagacious  eye 
On  sure  experience  may  with*  truth  rely, 
Who  from  the  reigning  cause  foretells  the  effect, 
This  barbarous  practice  ever  will  reject ; 
For,  fluttering  loose  in  air,  the  rigid  sail 
Soon  flits  to  ruins  in  the  furious  gale ; 
And  he,  who  strives  the  tempest  to  disarm, 


303]  CANTO    II.  61 

"\Vill  never  first  cmbcail  the  lee  yard-arm." 
So  Albert  spoke ;  to  windward,  at  liis  call, 
Some  seamen  the  clue-garnet  stand  to  haul  — 
The  tack 's  eased  off,  while  the  involving  clue 
Between  the  pendent  blocks  ascending  flew ; 
The  sheet  and  weather-brace  they  now  stand  by, 
The  lee  clue-garnet,  and  the  bunt-lines  ply : 
Then,  all  prepared,  Let  go  the  sheet !  he  cries : — 
Loud  rattling,  jarring,  through  the  blocks  it  flies ! 
Shivering  at  first,  till  by  the  blast  impell'd ; 
High  o'er  the  lee  yard-arm  the  canvas  swell'd ; 
By  spilling  lines  embraced,  with  brails  confined, 
It  lies  at  length  unshaken  by  the  wind. 
The  fore-sail  then  secured  with  equal  care, 
Again  to  reef  the  main-sail  they  repair  ; 
While  some  aboye  the  yard  o'er-haul  the  tye, 
Below,  the  down-haul  tackle  others  ply ; 
Jears,  lifts,  and  brails,  a  seaman  each  attends, 
And  down  the  mast  its  mighty  yard  descends : 
"When  lower'd  sufficient  they  securely  brace, 
And  fix  the  rolling  tackle  in  its  place ; 
The  reef-lines  and  their  earings  now  prepared, 
Mounting  on  pliant  shrouds  they  man  the  yard : 
Far  on  the  extremes  appear  two  able  hands, 
For  no  inferior  skill  this  task  demands  — 
To  windward,  foremost,  young  Arion  strides, 


62  THE    SHIPWKECK.  [329 

The  lee  yard-arm  the  gallant  boatswain  rides  : 

Each  earing  to  its  cringle  first  they  bend, 

The  reef-band  then  along  the  yard  extend ; 

The  circling  earings  round  the  extremes  entwined, 

By  outer  and  by  inner  turns  they  bind  ; 

The  reef-lines  next  from  hand  to  hand  received, 

Through  eyelet-holes  and  roban-legs  were  reeved ; 

The  folding  reefs  in  plaits  inroll'd  they  lay, 

Extend  the  worming  lines,  and  ends  belay. 

Hadst  thou,  Arion !  held  the  leeward  post 
"While  on  the  yard  by  mountain  billows  tost, 
Perhaps  oblivion  o'er  our  tragic  tale 
Had  then  for  ever  drawn  her  dusky  veil ; 
But  ruling  Heaven  prolong'd  thy  vital  date, 
Severer  ills  to  suffer,  and  relate. 

For,  while  aloft  the  order  those  attend 
To  furl  the  main-sail,  or  on  deck  descend ; 
A  sea,  upsurging  with  stupendous  roll, 
To  instant  ruin  seems  to  doom  the  whole  : 
O  friends,  secure  your  hold !  Arion  cries  — 
It  comes  all  dreadful !  down  the  vessel  lies 
Half  buried  sideways ;  while,  beneath  it  tost, 
Four  seamen  off  the  lee  yard-arm  are  lost : 
Torn  with  resistless  fury  from  their  hold, 
In  vain  their  struggling  arms  the  yard  enfold ; 
In  vain  to  grapple  flying  ropes  they  try, 


355J  CANTO   II.  63 

The  ropes,  alas !  a  solid  gripe  deny : 
Prone  on  the  midnight  surge  with  panting  breath 
They  cry  for  aid,  and  long  contend  with  death ; 
High  o'er  their  heads  the  rolling  billows  sweep, 
And  down  they  sink  in  everlasting  sleep. 
Bereft  of  power  to  help,  their  comrades  see 
The  wretched  victims  die  beneath  the  lee, 
With  fruitless  sorrow  their  lost  state  bemoan, 
Perhaps  a  fatal  prelude  to  their  own  ! 

In  dark  suspense  on  deck  the  pilots  stand, 
Nor  can  determine  on  the  next  command : 
Though  still  they  knew  the  vessel's  armed  side 
Impenetrable  to  the  clasping  tide ; 
Though  still -the  waters  by  no  secret  wound 
A  passage  to  her  deep  recesses  found ; 
Surrounding  evils  yet  they  ponder  o'er, 
A  storm,  a  dangerous  sea,  and  leeward  shore ! 
"  Should  they,  though  reef d,  again  their  sails  ex- 
tend, 

Again  in  shivering  streamers  they  may  rend ; 
Or,  should  they  stand,  beneath  the  oppressive  strain, 
The  down-press'd  ship  may  never  rise  again ; 
Too  late  to  weather  now  Morea's  land, 
And  drifting  fast  on  Athens'  rocky  strand."  — 
Thus  they  lament  the  consequence  severe, 
Where  perils  unallay'd  by  hope-  appear : 


64  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [380 

Long  pondering  in  their  minds  each  fear'd  event, 
At  last  to  furl  the  courses  they  consent ; 
That  done,  to  reef  the  mizzen  next  agree, 
And  try  beneath  it  sidelong  in  the  sea. 

Now  down  the  mast  the  yard  they  lower  away, 
Then  jears  and  topping-lift  secure  belay  ; 
The  head,  with  doubling  canvas  fenced  around, 
In  balance  near  the  lofty  peak  they  bound ; 
The  reef  enwrapp'd,  the  inserting  knittles  tied, 
The  halyards  throt  and  peak  are  next  applied  — 
The  order  given,  the  yard  aloft  they  sway'd, 
The  brails  relax'd,  the  extended  sheet  belay'd ; 
The  helm  its  post  forsook,  and,  lash'd  a-lee, 
Incline  the  wayward  prow  to  front  the  sea. 

IV.  When  sacred  Orpheus  on  the  Stygian  coast, 
With  notes  divine  deplored  his  consort  lost ; 
Though  round  him  perils  grew  in  fell  array, 
And  fates  and  furies  stood  to  bar  his  way ; 
Not  more  adventurous  was  the  attempt,  to  move 
The  infernal  powers  with  strains  of  heavenly  love, 
Than  mine,  in  ornamental  vefse  to  dress 
The  harshest  sounds  that  terms  of  art  express : 
Such  arduous  toil  sage  Daedalus  endured 
In  mazes,  self-invented,  long  immured, 
Till  genius  her  superior  aid  bestow'd, 
To  guide  him  through  that  intricate  abode  — 


406]  CANTO    IT.  65 

Thus,  long  imprison' d  in  a  rugged  way 

Where  Phoebus'  daughters  never  aim'd  to  stray, 

The  muse,  that  tuned  to  barbarous  sounds  her     , 

string, 

Now  spreads,  like  Daedalus,  a  bolder  wing ; 
The  verse  begins  in  softer  strains  to  flow, 
Replete  with  sad  variety  of  woe. 

As  yet,  amid  this  elemental  war, 
Where  desolation  in  his  gloomy  car 
Triumphant  rages  round  the  starless  void, 
And  fate  on  every  billow  seems  to  ride ; 
Nor  toil,  nor  hazard,  nor  distress  appear 
To  sink  the  seamen  with  unmanly  fear : 
Though  their  firm  hearts  no  pageant-honour  boast, 
They  scorn  the  wretch  that  trembles  at  his  post ; 
Who  from  the  face  of  danger  strives  to  turn, 
Indignant  from  the  social  hour  they  spurn : 
Though  now  full  oft  they  felt  the  raging  tide 
In  proud  rebellion  climb  the  vessel's  side ; 
Though  every  rising  wav£  more  dreadful  grows, 
And  in  succession  dire  the  deck  o'erflows ; 
No  future  ills  unknown  their  souls  appall, 
They  know  no  danger,  or  they  scorn  it  all : 
But  e'en  the  generous  spirits  of  the  brave, 
Subdued  by  toil,  a  friendly  respite  crave ; 
They,  with  severe  fatigue  alone  opprest, 
5 


66  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [431 

Would  fain  indulge  an  interval  of  rest. 

Far  other  cares  the  master's  mind  employ, 
Approaching  perils  all  his  hopes  destroy : 
In  vain  he  spreads  the  graduated  chart, 
And  bounds  the  distance  by  the  rules  of  art ; 
Across  the  geometric  plane  expands 
The  compasses  to  circumjacent  lands  ; 
Ungrateful  task !  for,  no  asylum  found, 
Death  yawns  on  every  leeward  shore  around.  — 
While  Albert  thus,  with  horrid  doubts  dismay'd, 
The  geometric  distances  survey'd  ; 
On  deck  the  watchful  Rodmond  cries  aloud, 
Secure  your  lives !  grasp  every  man  a  shroud  — 
Roused  from  his  trance,  he  mounts  with  eyes  aghast ; 
When  o'er  the  ship,  in  undulation  vast, 
A  giant  surge  down  rushes  from  on  high, 
And  fore  and  aft  dissever'd  ruins  lie : 
As  when,  Britannia's  empire  to  maintain, 
Great  Hawke  descends  in  thunder  on  the  main, 
Around  the  brazen  voice  of  battle  roars, 
And  fatal  lightnings  blast  the  hostile  shores ; 
Beneath  the  storm  their  shatter'd  navies  groan ; 
The  trembh'ng  deep  recoils  from  zone  to  zone  — 
Thus  the  torn  vessel  felt  the  enormous  stroke, 
The  boats  beneath  the  thundering  deluge  broke ; 
Torn  from  their  planks  the  cracking  ring-bolts  drew, 


457]  CANTO   II.  67 

And  gripes  and  lashings  all  asunder  flew ; 
Companion,  binnacle,  in  floating  wreck, 
With  compasses  and  glasses  strew'd  the  deck ; 
The  balanced  mizzen,  rending  to  the  head, 
In  fluttering  fragments  from  its  bolt-rope  fled ; 
The  sides  convulsive  shook  on  groaning  beams, 
And,  rent  with  labour,  yawn'd  their  pitchy  seams. 

They  sound  the  well,  and,  terrible  to  hear ! 
Five  feet  immersed  along  the  line  appear : 
At  either  pump  they  ply  the  clanking  brake, 
And,  turn  by  turn,  the  ungrateful  office  take : 
Rodmond,  Arion,  and  Palemon  here 
At  this  sad  task  all  diligent  appear  — 
As  some  strong  citadel  begirt  with  foes 
Tries  long  the  tide  of  ruin  to  oppose, 
Destruction  near  her  spreads  his  black  array, 
And  death  and  sorrow  mark  his  horrid  way : 
Till,  in  some  destined  hour,  against  her  wall 
In  tenfold  rage  the  fatal  thunders  fall ; 
It  breaks !  it  bursts  before  the  cannonade  ! 
And  folio  wing  hosts  the  shatter'd  domes  invade : 
Her  inmates  long  repel  the  hostile  flood, 
And  shield  their  sacred  charge  in  streams  of  blood : 
So  the  brave  mariners  their  pumps  attend, 
And  help  incessant,  by  rotation,  lend ; 
But  all  in  vain !  for  now  the  sounding  cord, 


68  THE    SHIPWRECK.  1*83 

Updrawn,  an  undiminish'd  depth  explored. 

Nor  this  severe  distress  is  found  alone, 

The  ribs  opprest  by  ponderous  cannon  groan  ; 

Deep  rolling  from  the  watery  volume's  height, 

The  tortured  sides  seem  bursting  with  their  weight  — 

So  reels  Pelorus  with  convulsive  throes, 

When  in  his  veins  the  burning  earthquake  glows  ; 

Hoarse  through  his  entrails  roars  the  infernal  flame, 

And  central  thunders  rend  his  groaning  frame  — 

Accumulated  mischiefs  thus  arise, 

And  fate,  vindictive,  all  their  skill  defies : 

For  this,  one  remedy  is  only  known, 

From  the  torn  ship  her  metal  must  be  thrown ; 

Eventful  task  !  which  last  distress  requires, 

And  dread  of  instant  death  alone  inspires  : 

For,  while  intent  the  yawning  decks  to  ease, 

FilPd  ever  and  anon  with  rushing  seas, 

Some  fatal  billow  with  recoiling  sweep 

May  whirl  the  helpless  wretches  in  the  deep. 

No  season  this  for  counsel  or  delay ; 
Too  soon  the  eventful  moments  haste  away ! 
Here  perseverance,  with  each  help  of  arf, 
Must  join  the  boldest  efforts  of  the  heart ; 
These  only  now  their  misery  can  relieve, 
These  only  now  a  dawn  of  safety  give. 
While  o'er  the  quivering  deck  from  van  to  rear 


509]  CANTO   IT.  69 

Broad  surges  roll  in  terrible  career, 
Rodmond,  Arion,  and  a  chosen  crew, 
This  office  in  the  face  of  death  pursue ; 
The  wheel'd  artillery  o'er  the  deck  to  guide, 
Eodmond  descending  claim'd  the  weather-side ; 
Fearless  of  heart  the  chief  his  orders  gave, 
Fronting  the  rude  assaults  of  every  wave  — 
Like   some   strong  watch-tower  nodding   o'er  the 

deep, 

Whose  rocky  base  the  foaming  waters  sweep, 
Untamed  he  stood ;  the  stern  aerial  war 
Had  mark'd  his  honest  face  with  many  a  scar ; 
Meanwhile  Arion,  traversing  the  waist, 
The  cordage  of  the  leeward-guns  unbraced, 
And  pointed  crows  beneath  the  metal  placed. 
Watching  the  roll,  their  forelocks  they  withdrew, 
And  from  their  beds  the  reeling  cannon  threw ; 
Then,  from  the  windward  battlements  unbound, 
Redmond's  associates  wheel'd  the  artillery  round ; 
Pointed  with  iron  fangs,  their  bars  beguile 
The  ponderous  arms  across  the  steep  defile ; 
Then,  hurl'd  from  sounding  hinges  o'er  the  side, 
Thundering  they  plunge  into  the  flashing  tide. 

The  ship,  thus  eased,  some  little  respite  finds 
In  this  rude  conflict  of  the  seas  and  winds  — 
Such  ease  Alcides  felt,  when,  clogg'd  with  gore, 


70  THE    SHIPWRECK.  |534 

The  envenom'd  mantle  from  his  side  he  tore  ; 
When,  stung  with  burning  pain,  he  strove  too  late 
To  stop  the  swift  career  of  cruel  fate ; 
Yet  then  his  heart  one  ray  of  hope  procured, 
Sad  harbinger  of  sevenfold  pangs  endured  — 
Such,  and  so  short,  the  pause  of  woe  she  found ! 
Cimmerian  darkness  shades  the  deep  around, 
Save  when  the  lightnings  in  terrific  blaze 
Deluge  the  cheerless  gloom  with  horrid  rays : 
Above,  all  ether  fraught  with  scenes  of  woe 
"With  grim  destruction  threatens  all  below ; 
Beneath,  the  storm-lash'd  surges  furious  rise, 
And  wave  uproll'd  on  wave  assails  the  skies ; 
"With  ever-floating  bulwarks  they  surround 
The  ship,  half  swallow'd  in  the  black  profound. 

"With  ceaseless  hazard  and  fatigue  opprest, 
Dismay  and  anguish  every  heart  possest ; 
For  while,  with  sweeping  inundation,  o'er 
The  sea-beat  ship  the  booming  waters  roar, 
Displaced  beneath  by  her  capacious  womb, 
They  rage  their  ancient  station  to  resume ; 
By  secret  ambushes,  their  force  to  prove, 
Through  many  a  winding  channel  first  they  rove ; 
Till  gathering  fury,  like  the  fever'd  blood, 
Through  her  dark  veins  they  roll  a  rapid  flood : 
"When  unrelenting  thus  the  leaks  they  found, 


560]  CANTO   II.  71 

• 

The  clattering  pumps  with  clanking  strokes  resound  ; 
Around  each  leaping  valve,  by  toil  subdued, 
The  tough  bull-hide  must  ever  be  renew'd : 
Their  sinking  hearts  unusual  horrors  chill, 
And  down  their  weary  limbs  thick  dews  distill; 
No  ray  of  light  their  dying  hope  redeems, 
Pregnant  with  some  new  woe,  each  moment  teems. 

Again  the  chief  the  instructive  chart  extends, 
And  o'er  the  figured  plane  attentive  bends ; 
To  him  the  motion  of  each  orb  was  known, 
That  wheels  around  the  sun's  refulgent  throne; 
But  here,  alas  !  his  science  nought  avails, 
Skill  droops  unequal,  and  experience  fails : 
The  different  traverses,  since  twilight  made, 
He  on  the  hydrographic  circle  laid  ; 
Then,  in  the  graduated  arch  contain'd, 
The  angle  of  lee-way,  seven  points,  remain'd  — 
Her  place  discover'd  by  the  rules  of  art, 
Unusual  terrors  shook  the  master's  heart, 
When,  on  the  immediate  line  of  drift,  he  found 
The  rugged  isle,  with  rocks  and  breakers  bound, 
Of  Falconera ;  distant  only  now 
Nine  lessening  leagues  beneath  the  leeward  bow 
For,  if  on  those  destructive  shallows  tost, 
The  helpless  bark  with  all  her  crew  are  lost ; 
As  fatal  still  appears,  that  danger  o'er, 


72  THE    SHIPWRECK.  I586 

The  steep  St.  George,  and  rocky  Gardalor. 

"With  him  the  pilots,  of  their  hopeless  state, 

In  mournful  consultation,  long  debate  — 

Not  more  perplexing  doubts  her  chiefs  appall 

When  some  proud  city  verges  to  her  fall, 

"While  ruin  glares  around,  and  pale  affright 

Convenes  her  councils  in  the  dead  of  night. 

No  blazon'd  trophies  o'er  their  concave  spread, 

Nor  storied  pillars  raised  aloft  their  head : 

But  here  the  queen  of  shade  around  them  threw 

Her  dragon  wing,  disastrous  to  the  view ! 

Dire  was  the  scene  with  whirdwind,  hail,  and  shower; 

Black  melancholy  ruled  the  fearful  hour  : 

Beneath,  tremendous  roll'd  the  flashing  tide, 

"Where  fate  on  every  billow  seem'd  to  ride  — 

Enclosed  with  ills,  by  peril  unsubdued, 

Great  in  distress  the  master-seaman  stood ! 

Skill'd  to  command  ;  deliberate  to  advise ; 

Expert  in  action ;  and  in  council  wise  — 

Thus  to  his  partners,  by  the  crew  unheard, 

The  dictates  of  his  soul  the  chief  referr'd  : 

"  Ye  faithful  mates !  who  all  my  troubles  share, 
Approved  companions  of  your  master's  care  ! 
To  you,  alas !  't  were  fruitless  now  to  tell 
Our  sad  distress,  already  known  too  well : 
This  morn  with  favouring  gales  the  port  we  left, 


612]  CANTO    II.  73 

Though  now  of  every  flattering  hope  bereft : 
No  skill,  nor  long  experience  could  forecast 
The  unseen  approach  of  this  destructive  blast ; 
These  seas,  where  storms  at  various  seasons  blow, 
No  reigning  winds  nor  certain  omens  know : 
The  hour,  the  occasion,  all  your  skill  demands, 
A  leaky  ship,  embay'd  by  dangerous  lands ! 
Our  bark  no  transient  jeopardy  surrounds, 
Groaning  she  lies  beneath  unnumber'd  wounds : 
'T  is  ours  the  doubtful  remedy  to  find, 
To  shun  the  fury  of  the  seas  and  wind ; 
For  in  this  hollow  swell,  with  labour  sore, 
Her  flank  can  bear  the  bursting  floods  no  more. 
One  only  shift,  though  desperate,  we  must  try, 
And  that,  before  the  boisterous  storm  to  fly : 
Then  less  her  sides  will  feel  the  surges'  power, 
"Which  thus  may  soon  the  foundering  hull  devour. 
'T  is  true,  the  vessel  and  her  costly  freight 
To  me  consign'd,  my  orders  only  wait; 
Yet,  since  the  charge  of  every  life  is  mine, 
To  equal  votes  our  counsels  I  resign  — 
Forbid  it,  Heaven  !  that  in  this  dreadful  hour 
I  claim  the  dangerous  reins  of  purblind  power  ! 
But  should  we  now  resolve  to  bear  away, 
Our  hopeless  state  can  suffer  no  delay : 
Nor  can  we,  thus  bereft  of  every  sail, 


74  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [638 

Attempt  to  steer  obliquely  on  the  gale ; 
For  then,  if  broaching  side  way  to  the  sea, 
Our  dropsied  ship  may  founder  by  the  lee ;    • 
Vain  all  endeavours  then  to  bear  away, 
Nor  helm,  nor  pilot,  would  she  more  obey." 

He  said :  the  listening  mates  with  fix'd  regard 
And  silent  reverence,  his  opinion  heard ; 
Important  was  the  question  in  debate, 
And  o'er  their  counsels  hung  impending  fate  : 
Rodmond,  in  many  a  scene  of  peril  tried, 
Had  oft  the  master's  happier  skill  descried, 
Yet  now,  the  hour,  the  scene,  the  occasion  known, 
Perhaps  with  equal  right  preferr'd  his  own ; 
Of  long  experience  in  the  naval  art, 
Blunt  was  his  speech,  and  naked  was  his  heart ; 
Alike  to  him  each  climate,  and  each  blast, 
The  first  in  danger,  in  retreat  the  last : 
Sagacious,  balancing  the  opposed  events, 
From  Albert  his  opinion  thus  dissents  :  — 

"  Too  true  the  perils  of  the  present  hour, 
Where  toils  succeeding  toils  our  strength  o'erpower ! 
Our  bark,  't  is  true,  no  shelter  here  can  find, 
Sore  shattei''d  by  the  ruffian  seas  and  wind : 
Yet  where  with  safety  can  we  dare  to  scud 
Before  this  tempest,  and  pursuing  flood  ? 
At  random  driven,  to  present  death  we  haste, 


664]  CANTO    II.  75 

And  one  short  hour  perhaps  may  be  our  last : 

Though  Corinth's  gulf  extend  along  the  lee, 

To  whose  safe  ports  appears  a  passage  free, 

Yet  think  !  this  furious  unremitting  gale 

Deprives  the  ship  of  every  ruling  sail ; 

And  if  before  it  she  directly  flies, 

New  ills  enclose  us  and  new  dangers  rise : 

Here  Falconera  spreads  her  lurking  snares, 

There  distant  Greece  her  rugged  shelves  prepares ; 

Our  hull,  if  once  it  strikes  that  iron  coast, 

Asunder  bursts,  in  instant  ruin  lost ; 

Nor  she  alone,  but  with  her  all  the  crew, 

Beyond  relief,  are  doom'd  to  perish  too : 

Such  mischiefs  follow  if  we  bear  away  ; 

O  safer  that  sad  refuge  —  to  delay ! 

"  Then  of  our  purpose  this  appears  the  scope, 
To  weigh  the  danger  with  the  doubtful  hope : 
Though  sorely  buffeted  by  every  sea, 
Our  hull  unbroken  long  may  try  a-lee ; 
The  crew,  though  harass'd  much  with  toils  severe, 
Still  at  their  pumps,  perceive  no  hazards  near : 
Shall  we,  incautious,  then  the  danger  tell, 
At  once  their  courage  and  their  hope  to  quell  ? 
Prudence  forbids  !  this  southern  tempest  soon 
May  change  its  quarter  with  the  changing  moon ; 
Its  rage,  though  terrible,  may  soon  subside, 


76  THE   SHIPWRECK.  1.690 

Nor  into  mountains  lash  the  unruly  tide : 

These  leaks  shall  then  decrease  —  the   sails  once 

more 
Direct  our  course  to  some  relieving  shore." 

Thus  while  he  spoke,  around  from  man  to  man 
At  either  pump  a  hollow  murmur  ran : 
For,  while  the  vessel  through  unnumber'd  chinks, 
Above,  below,  the  invading  water  drinks, 
Sounding  her  depth  they  eyed  the  wetted  scale, 
And  lo !  the  leaks  o'er  all  their  powers  prevail : 
Yet  at  their  post,  by  terrors  unsubdued, 
They  with  redoubling  force  their  task  pursued. 

And  now  the  senior  pilots  seem'd  to  wait 
Arion's  voice,  to  close  the  dark  debate : 
Not  o'er  his  vernal  life  the  ripening  sun 
Had  yet  progressive  twice  ten  summers  run ; 
Slow  to  debate,  yet  eager  to  excel, 
In  thy  sad  school,  stern  Neptune !  taught  too  well : 
"With  lasting  pain  to  rend  his  youthful  heart 
Dire  fate  in  venom  dipt  her  keenest  dart ; 
Till  his  firm  spirit,  temper'd  long  to  ill, 
Forgot  her  persecuting  scourge  to  feel : 
But  now  the  horrors,  that  around  him  roll, 
Thus  roused  to  action  his  rekindling  soul :  — 

"  Can  we,  delay'd  in  this  tremendous  tide, 
A  moment  pause  what  purpose  to  decide  ? 


715]  CAJSTO    II.  77 

Alas  !  from  circling  horrors  thus  combined, 
One  method  of  relief  alone  we  find : 

« 

Thus  water-logg'd,  thus  helpless  to  remain 
Amid  this  hollow,  how  ill  judged !  how  vain ! 
Our  sea-breach'd  vessel  can  no  longer  bear 
The  floods,  that  o'er  her  burst  in  dread  career; 
The  labouring  hull  already  seems  half-fill'd 
With  water  through  a  hundred  leaks  distill'd ; 
Thus  drench'd  by  every  wave,  her  riven  deck, 
Stript,  and  defenceless,  floats  a  naked  wreck ; 
At  every  pitch  the  o'erwhehning  billows  bend 
Beneath  their  load  the  quivering  bowsprit's  end ; 
A  fearful  warning !  since  the  masts  on  high 
On  that  support  with  trembling  hope  rely ; 
At  either  pump  our  seamen  pant  for  breath, 
In  dire  dismay,  anticipating  death ; 
Still  all  our  powers  the  increasing  leaks  defy, 
We  sink  at  sea,  no  shore,  no  haven  nigh : 
One  dawn  of  hope  yet  breaks  athwart  the  gloom 
To  light  and  save  us  from  a  watery  tomb ; 
That  bids  us  shun  the  death  impending  here, 
Fly  from  the  following  blast,  and  shoreward  steer. 

"  'T  is  urged  indeed,  the  fury  of  the  gale 
Precludes  the  help  of  every  guiding  sail ; 
And,  driven  before  it  on  the  watery  waste, 
To  rocky  shores  and  scenes  of  death  we  haste ; 


78  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [741 

But  haply  Falconera  we  may  shun, 
And  long  to  Grecian  coasts  is  yet  the  run : 
Less  harass'd  then,  our  scudding  ship  may  bear 
The  assaulting  surge  repell'd  upon  her  rear, 
And  since  as  soon  that  tempest  may  decay 
When  steering  shoreward  —  wherefore  thus  delay  ? 
Should  we  at  last  be  driven  by  dire  decree 
Too  near  the  fatal  margin  of  the  sea, 
The  hull  dismasted  there  awhile  may  ride 
With  lengthen'd  cables,  on  the  raging  tide ; 
Perhaps  kind  Heaven,  with  interposing  power, 
May  curb  the  tempest  ere  that  dreadful  hour ; 
But  here,  ingulf  d  and  foundering,  while  we  stay, 
Fate  hovers  o'er  and  marks  us  for  her  prey." 
He  said :  Palemon  saw  with  grief  of  heart 
The  storm  prevailing  o'er  the  pilot's  art ; 
In  silent  terror  and  distress  involved, 
He  heard  their  last  alternative  resolved : 
High  beat  his  bosom  —  with  such  fear  subdued, 
Beneath  the  gloom  of  some  enchanted  wood, 
Oft  in  old  time  the  wandering  swain  explored 
The  midnight  wizards,  breathing  rites  abhorr'd ; 
Trembling,  approach'd  their  incantations  fell, 
And,  chill'd  with  horror,  heard  the  songs  of  hell. 
Arion  saw,  with  secret  anguish  moved, 
The  deep  affliction  of  the  friend  he  loved, 


767]  CANTO   II.  79 

And  all  awake  to  friendship's  genial  heat 

His  bosom  felt  consenting  tremors  beat : 

Alas  !  no  season  this  for  tender  love, 

Far  hence  the  music  of  the  myrtle  grove  — 

He  tried  with  soft  persuasion's  melting  lore 

Palemon's  fainting  courage  to  restore ; 

His  wounded  spirit  heal'd  with  friendship's  balm, 

And  bade  each  conflict  of  the  mind  be  calm. 

Now  had  the  pilots  all  the  events  revolved, 
And  on  their  final  refuge  thus  resolved  — 
When,  like  the  faithful  shepherd  who  beholds 
Some  prowling  wolf  approach  his  fleecy  folds, 
To  the  brave  crew,  whom  racking  doubts  perplex, 
The  dreadful  purpose  Albert  thus  directs : 

"  Unhappy  partners  in  a  wayward  fate ! 
Whose  courage  now  is  known  perhaps  too  late ; 
Ye  !  who  unmoved  behold  this  angry  storm 
In  conflict  all  the  rolling  deep  deform ; 
Who,  patient  in  adversity,  still  bear 
The  firmest  front  when  greatest  ills  are  near ; 
The  truth,  though  painful,  I  must  now  reveal, 
That  long  in  vain  I  purposed  to  conceal : 
Ingulf  d,  all  help  of  art  we  vainly  try, 
To  weather  leeAvard  shores,  alas  !  too  nigh : 
Our  crazy  bark  no  longer  can  abide 
The  seas,  that  thunder  o'er  her  batter'd  side ; 


80  THE    SHIPWRECK.  ["93 

And  while  the  leaks  a  fatal  warning  give 
That  in  this  raging  sea  she  cannot  live, 
One  only  refuge  from  despair  we  find  — 
At  once  to  wear  and  scud  before  the  wind : 
Perhaps  e'en  then  to  ruin  we  may  steer, 
For  rocky  shores  beneath  our  lee  appear ; 
But  that's  remote,  and  instant  death  is  here : 
Yet  there,  by  Heaven's  assistance,  we  may  gain 
Some  creek  or  inlet  of  the  Grecian  main ; 
Or,  shelter'd  by  some  rock,  at  anchor  ride 
Till  with  abating  rage  the  blast  subside : 
But  if,  determined  by  the  will  of  Pleaven, 
Our  helpless  bark  at  last  ashore  is  driven, 
These  councils  follow'd,  from  a  watery  grave 
Our  crew  perhaps  amid  the  surf  may  save  :  — 

"  And  first,  let  all  our  axes  be  secured 
To  cut  the  masts  and  rigging  from  aboard  ; 
Then  to  the  quarters  bind  each  plank  and  oar 
To  float  between  the  vessel  and  the  shore : 
The  longest  cordage  too  riust  be  convey'd 
On  deck,  and  to  the  weather-rails  belay'd : 
So  they,  who  haply  reach  alive  the  land, 
The  extended  lines  may  fasten  on  the  strand, 
Whene'er,  loud  thundering  on  the  leeward  shore, 
While  yet  aloof,  we  hear  the  breakers  roar : 
Thus  for  the  terrible  event  prepared, 


819J  CAXTO    II.  81 

Brace  fore  and  aft  to  starboard  every  yard ; 
So  shall  our  masts  swim  lighter  on  the  wave, 
And  from  the  broken  rocks  our  seamen  save ; 
Then  westward  turn  the  stem,  that  every  mast 
May  shoreward  fall  as  from  the  vessel  cast. 
"SVhen  o'er  her  side  once  more  the  billows  bound, 
Ascend  the  rigging  till  she  strikes  the  ground ; 
And,  when  you  hear  aloft  the  dreadful  shock 
That  strikes  her  bottom  on  some  pointed  rock, 
The  boldest  of  our  sailors  must  descend 
The  dangerous  business  of  the  deck  to  tend : 
Then  burst  the  hatches  off,  and  every  stay 
And  every  fastening  laniard  cut  away, 
Planks,  gratings,  booms,  and  rafts  to  leeward  cast ; 
Then  with  redoubled  strokes  attack  each  mast, 
That  buoyant  lumber  may  sustain  you  o'er 
The  rocky  shelves  and  ledges  to  the  shore : 
But  as  your  firmest  succour,  till  the  last 
O  cling  securely  on  each  faithful  mast ! 
Though  great  the  danger,  and  the  task  severe, 
Yet  bow  not  to  the  tyranny  of  fear ; 
If  once  that  slavish  yoke  your  souls  subdue, 
Adieu  to  hope !  to  life  itself  adieu ! 

"  I  know  among  you  some  have  oft  beheld 
A  bloodhound  train,  by  rapine's  lust  impell'd, 
On  England's  cruel  coast  impatient  stand, 
6 


82  THE    SHIPWBECK.  [8 

To  rob  the  wanderers  wreck'd  upon  their  strand : 
These,  while  their  savage  office  they  pursue, 
Oft  wound  to  death  the  helpless  plunder'd  crew, 
Who,  'scaped  from  every  horror  of  the  main, 
Implored  their  mercy,  but  implored  in  vain  : 
Yet  dread  not  this,  a  crime  to  Greece  unknown, 
Such  bloodhounds  all  her  circling  shores  disown ; 
Who,  though  by  barbarous  tyranny  opprest, 
Can  share  affliction  with  the  wretch  distrest : 
Their  hearts,  by  cruel  fate  inured  to  grief, 
Oft  to  the  friendless  stranger  yield  relief." 

With  conscious  horror  struck,  the  naval  band 
Detested  for  a  while  their  native  land ; 
They  cursed  the  sleeping  vengeance  of  the  laws, 
That  thus  forgot  her  guardian  sailor's  cause. 

Meanwhile  the  master's  voice  again  they  heard 
Whom,  as  with  filial  duty,  all  revered: 
"  No  more  remains  —  but  now  a  trusty  band 
Must  ever  at  the  pumps  industrious  stand ; 
And,  while  with  us  the  rest  attend  to  wear, 
Two  skilful  seamen  to  the  helm  repair  — 
And  thou  Eternal  Power !  whose  awful  sway 
The  storms  revere,  and  roaring  seas  obey ! 
On  thy  supreme  assistance  we  rely ; 
Thy  mercy  supplicate,  if  doom'd  to  die  ! 
Perhaps  this  storm  is  sent  with  healing  breath 


871]  CANTO    IT.  83 

From  neighbouring  shores  to  scourge  disease  and 

death : 

'Tis  ours  on  thine  unerring  laws  to  trust, 
With  thee,  great  Lord  !  '  whatever  is,  is  just.' " 

He  said :  and,  with  consenting  reverence  fraught, 
The  sailors  join'd  his  prayer  in  silent  thought : 
His  intellectual  eye,  serenely  bright, 
Saw  distant  objects  with  prophetic  light  — 
Thus  in  a  land,  that  lasting  wars  oppress, 
That  groans  beneath  misfortune  and  distress ; 
Whose  wealth  to  conquering  armies  falls  a  prey, 
Till  all  her  vigour,  pride,  and  fame  decay  ; 
Some  bold  sagacious  stateman,  from  the  helm, 
Sees  desolation  gathering  o'er  his  realm  ; 
He  darts  around  his  penetrating  eyes 
Where  dangers  grow,  and  hostile  unions  rise ; 
With  deep  attention  marks  the. invading  foe, 
Eludes  their  wiles  and  frustrates  every  blow, 
Tries  his  last  art  the  tottering  state  to  save, 
Or  in  its  ruins  find  a  glorious  grave. 

Still  in  the  yawning  trough  the  vessel  reels, 
Ingulf 'd  beneath  two  fluctuating  hills ; 
On  either  side  they  rise,  tremendous  scene ! 
A  long  dark  melancholy  vale  between : 
The  balanced  ship  now  forward,  now  behind, 
Still  felt  the  impression  of  the  waves  and  wind, 


84  THE    SHIPWRECK.  f896 

And  to  the  right  and  left  by  turns  inclined ; 

But  Albert  from  behind  the  balance  drew, 

And  on  the  prow  its  double  efforts  threw. 

The  order  now  was  given  to  bear  away  ! 

The  order  given,  the  timoneers  obey : 

Both  stay-sail  sheets  to  mid-ships  were  convey'd, 

And  round  the  foremast  on  each  side  belay'd ; 

Thus  ready,  to  the  halyards  they  apply, 

They  hoist !  away  the  flitting  ruins  fly : 

Yet  Albert  new  resources  still  prepares, 

Conceals  his  grief,  and  doubles  all  his  cares.  — 

"  Away  there !  lower  the  mizzen-yard  on  deck," 

He  calls,  "  and  brace  the  foremost  yards  aback ! " 

His  great  example  every  bosom  fires, 

New  life  rekindles  and  new  hope  inspires. 

While  to  the  helm  unfaithful  still  she  lies, 

One  desperate  remedy  at  last  he  tries  — 

"  Haste !   with  your  weapons  cut  the  shrouds  and 

stay, 

And  hew  at  once  the  mizzen-mast  away ! " 
He  said :  to  cut  the  girding  stay  they  run, 
Soon  on  each  side  the  sever'd  shrouds  are  gone : 
Fast  by  the  fated  pine  bold  Rodmond  stands, 
The  impatient  axe  hung  gleaming  in  his  hands ; 
Brandish'd  on  high,  it  fell  with  dreadful  sound, 
The  tall  mast  groaning  felt  the  deadly  wound ; 


921]  CANTO    II.  85 

Deep  gash'd  beneath,  the  tottering  structure  rings, 
And  crashing,  thundering,  o'er  the  quarter  swings : 
Thus,  when  some  limb,  convulsed  with  pangs  of 

death, 

Imbibes  the  gangrene's  pestilential  breath, 
The  experienced  artist  from  the  blood  betrays 
The  latent  venom,  or  its  course  delays ; 
But  if  the  infection  triumphs  o'er  his  art, 
Tainting  the  vital  stream  that  warms  the  heart, 
To  stop  the  course  of  death's  inflaming  tides, 
The  infected  member  from  the  trunk  divides. 


THIRD    CANTO: 

THE    SCENE    IS    EXTENDED    FROM    THAT    PAET    OF 

THE   ARCHIPELAGO    WHICH   LIES 

TEX   MILES    TO    THE    NORTHWARD    OF   FALCONERA, 
TO    CAPE    COLONNA  IN  ATTICA. 

THE   TIME  ABOCT   SEVEN   HOURS  ;    FROM   ONE,  UNTIL   EIGHT  IX 
THE   MOKXIXG. 


ARGUMENT. 

I.  The  beneficial  influence  of  poetry  in  the  civilization  of  man- 
kind. Diffidence  of  the  author.  II,  Wreck  of  the  mizzen- 
mast  cleared  away.  Ship  put  before  the  wind  —  labours 
much.  Different  stations  of  the  officers.  Appearance  of  the 
island  of  Falconera.  III.  Excursion  to  the  adjacent  nations 
of  Greece  renowned  in  antiquity.  Athens.  Socrates,  Plato, 
Aristides.  Solon.  Corinth  —  its  architecture.  Sparta.  Le- 
onidas.  Invasion  by  Xerxes.  Lycurgus.  Epaminondas. 
Present  state  of  the  Spartans.  Arcadia.  Former  happiness, 
and  fertility.  Its  present  distress  the  effect  of  slavery. 
Ithaca,  Ulysses,  and  Penelope.  Argos  and  Myctene.  Aga- 
memnon. Macronisi.  Lemnos.  Vulcan.  Delos.  Apollo 
and  Diana.  Troy.  Sestos.  Leander  and  Hero.  Delphos. 
Temple  of  Apollo.  Parnassus.  The  muses.  IV.  Subject 
resumed.  Address  to  the  spirits  of  the  storm.  A  tempest, 
accompanied  with  rain,  hail,  and  meteors.  Darkness  of  the 
night,  lightning  and  thunder.  Daybreak.  St.  George's  cliffs 
open  upon  them.  The  ship,  in  great  danger,  passes  the  island 
of  St.  George.  V.  Land  of  Athens  appears.  Helmsman 
struck  blind  by  lightning.  Ship  laid  broadside  to  the  shore. 
Bowsprit,  foremast,  and  main  top-mast  carried  away.  Albert, 
Eodmond,  Arion,  and  Palemon  strive  to  save  themselves  on 
the  wreck  of  the  foremast.  The  ship  parts  asunder.  Death 
of  Albert  and  Rodmond.  Arion  reaches  the  shore.  Finds 
Palemon  expiring  on  the  beachi  His  dying  address  to  Arion, 
who  is  led  away  by  the  humane  natives. 


THE   SHIPWRECK. 

CANTO  HI. 

I.  WHEN  in  a  barbarous  age,  with  blood  defiled, 
The  human  savage  roam'd  the  gloomy  wild ; 
When  sullen  ignorance  her  flag  display'd, 
And  rapme,  and  revenge  her  voice  obey'd ; 
Sent  from  the  shores  of  light  the  muses  came 
The  dark  and  solitary  race  to  tame, 
The  war  of  lawless  passions  to  control, 
To  melt  in  tender  sympathy  the  soul ; 
The  heart's  remote  recesses  to  explore, 
And  touch  its  springs  when  prose  avail'd  no  more : 
The  kindling  spirit  caught  the  empyreal  ray, 
And  glow'd  congenial  with  the  swelling  lay ; 
Roused  from  the  chaos  of  primeval  night, 
At  once  fair  truth  and  reason  sprung  to  light. 
When  great  Maeonides,  in  rapid  song, 
The  thundering  tide  of  battle  rolls  along, 


90  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [17 

Each  ravish'd  bosom  feels  the  high  alarms, 

And  all  the  burning  pulses  beat  to  arms ; 

Hence,  war's  terrific  glory  to  display, 

Became  the  theme  of  every  epic  lay : 

But  when  his  strings  with  mournful  magic  tell 

What  dire  distress  Laertes'  son  befell, 

The  strains  meandering  through  the  maze  of  woe 

Bid  sacred  sympathy  the  heart  o'erflow ; 

Far  through  the   boundless   realms  of  thought  he 

springs, 

From  earth  upborne  on  Pegasean  wings, 
"While  distant  poets,  trembling  as  they  view 
His  sunward  flight,  the  dazzling  track  pursue  ; 
His  magic  voice  that  rouses  and  delights, 
Allures  and  guides  to  climb  Olympian  heights : 
But  I,  alas !  through  scenes  bewilder'd  stray, 
Far  from  the  light  of  his  unerring  ray ; 
While,  all  unused  the  wayward  path  to  tread, 
Darkling  I  wander  with  prophetic  dread ; 
To  me  in  vain  the  bold  Maeonian  lyre 
Awakes  the  numbers  fraught  with  living  fire ; 
Full  oft  indeed  that  mournful  harp  of  yore 
Wept  the  sad  wanderer  lost  upon  the  shore ; 
'Tis  true  he  lightly  sketch'd  the  bold  design, 
But  toils  more  joyless,  more  severe  are  mine  ; 
Since  o'er  that  scene  his  genius  swiftly  ran, 


42J  CANTO    III.  91 

Subservient  only  to  a  nojbler  plan : 

But  I,  perplex'd  in  labyrinths  of  art, 

Anatomize,  and  blazon  every  part ; 

Attempt  with  plaintive  numbers  to  display, 

And  chain  the  events  in  regular  array ; 

Though  hard  the  task  to  sing  in  varied  strains, 

When  still  unchanged  the  same  sad  theme  remains : 

0  could  it  draw  compassion's  melting  tear 

For  kindred  miseries,  oft  beheld  too  near ! 

For  kindred  wretches,  oft  in  ruin  cast 

On  Albion's  strand  beneath  the  wintry  blast ; 

For  all  the  pangs,  the  complicated  woe, 

Her  bravest  sons,  her  guardian  sailors  know ; 

Then  every  breast  should  sigh  at  our  distress  — 

This  were  the  summit  of  my  hoped  success ! 

For  this,  my  theme  through  mazes  I  pursue, 

Which  nor  Maeonides,  nor  Maro  knew. 

H.  Awhile  the  mast,  in  ruins  dragg'd  behind, 
Balanced  the  impression  of  the  helm  and  wind ; 
The  wounded  serpent  agonized  with  pain 
Thus  trails  his  mangled  volume  on  the  plain : 
But  now,  the  wreck  dissever'd  from  the  rearr 
The  long  reluctant  prow  began  to  veer : 
While  round  before  the  enlarging  wind  it  falls, 
"  Square  fore  and  aft  the  yards,"  the  master  calls : 
"  You  timoneers  her  motion  still  attend, 


92  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [68 

For  on  your  steerage  all  our  lives  depend : 

So  steady  !  meet  her !  watch  the  curving  prow, 

And  from  the  gale  directly  let  her  go." 

"  Starboard  again !  "  the  watchful  pilot  cries, 

"  Starboard !  "  the  obedient  timqneer  replies : 

Then  back  to  port,  revolving  at  command, 

The  wheel  rolls  swiftly  through  each  glowing  hand. 

The  ship  no  longer,  foundering  by  the  lee, 

Bears  on  her  side  the  invasions  of  the  sea ; 

All  lonely  o'er  the  desert  waste  she  flies, 

Scourged  on  by  surges,  storms,  and  bursting  skies : 

As  when  inclosing  harponeers  assail 

In  Hyperborean  seas  the  slumbering  whale, 

Soon  as  their  javelins  pierce  his  scaly  side, 

He  groans,  he  darts  impetuous  down  the  tide ; 

And  rack'd  all  o'er  with  lacerating  pain, 

He  flies  remote  beneath  the  flood  in  vain  — 

So  with  resistless  haste  the  wounded  ship 

Scuds  from  pursuing  waves  along  the  deep ; 

While,  dash'd  apart  by  her  dividing  prow, 

Like  burning  adamant  the  waters  glow ; 

Her  joints  forget  their  firm  elastic  tone, 

Her  long  keel  trembles,  and  her  timbers  groan : 

Upheaved  behind  her  in  tremendous  height 

The  billows  frown,  with  fearful  radiance  bright ; 

Now  quivering  o'er  the  topmost  waves  she  rides, 


94]  CANTO   in.  93 

"While  deep  b&ieath  the  jenormous  gulf  divides ; 
Now  launching  headlong  down  the  horrid  vale, 
Becalm'd  she  hears  no  more  the  howling  gale ; 
Till  up  the  dreadful  height  again  she  flies, 
Trembling  beneath  the  current  of  the  skies  : 
As  that  rebellious  angel,  who,  from  heaven, 
To  regions  of  eternal  pain  was  driven, 
When  dreadless  he  forsook  the  Stygian  shore 
The  distant  realms  of  Eden  to  explore  ; 
Here,  on  sulphureous  clouds  sublime  upheaved, 
With  daring  wing  the  infernal  air  he  cleaved ; 
There,  in  some  hideous  gulf  descending  prone, 
Far  in  the  void  abrupt  of  night  was  thrown  — 
E'en  so  she  climbs  the  briny  mountain's  height, 
Then  down  the  black  abyss  precipitates  her  flight: 
The  masts,  about  whose  tops  the  whirlwinds  sing, 
With  long  vibration  round  her  axle  swing. 

To  guide  her  wayward  course  amid  the  gloom, 
The  watchful  pilots  different  posts  assume : 
Albert  and  Rodmond  on  the  poop  appear, 
There  to  direct  each  guiding  timoneer ; 
While  at  the  bow  the  watch  Arion  keeps, 
To  shun  what  cruisers  wander  o'er  the  deeps : 
WTiere'er  he  moves  Palemon  still  attends, 
As  if  on  him  his  only  hope  depends ; 
While  Rodmond,  fearful  of  some  neighbouring  shore, 


94  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [12° 

Cries,  ever  and  anon,  Look  out  afore  t 

Thus  o'er  the  flood  four  hours  she  scudding  flew, 
"When  Falconera's  rugged  cliffs  they  view 
Faintly  along  the  larboard  bow  descried, 
As  o'er  its  mountain  tops  the  lightnings  glide  ; 
High  o'er  its  summit,  through  the  gloom  of  night, 
The  glimmering  watch-tower  casts  a  mournful  light : 
In  dire  amazement  riveted  they  stand, 
And  hear  the  breakers  lash  the  rugged  strand  — 
But  scarce  perceived,  when  past  the  beam  it  flies, 
Swift  as  the  rapid  eagle  cleaves  the  skies  : 
That  danger  past  reflects  a  feeble  joy, 
But  soon  returning  fears  their  hope  destroy : 
As  in  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  when  we  find 
Some  Alp  of  ice  driven  southward  by  the  wind, 
The  sultry  air  all  sickening  pants  around, 
In  deluges  of  torrid  ether  drown'd ; 
Till  when  the  floating  isle  approaches  nigh, 
In  cooling  tides  the  aerial  billows  fly  : 
Awhile  deliver'd  from  the  scorching  heat, 
In  gentler  tides  our  feverish  pulses  beat : 
Such  transient  pleasure,  as  they  pass'd  this  strand, 
A  moment  bade  their  throbbing  hearts  expand ; 
The  illusive  meteors  of  a  lifeless  fire, 
Too  soon  they  kindle,  and  too  soon  expire,     [tongue 
III.  Say,  memory !  thou,  from   whose   unerring 


146]  CANTO   III.  95 

Instructive  flows  the  animated  song, 

What  regions  now  the  scudding  ship  surround  ? 

Regions  of  old  through  all  the  world  renown'd ; 

That,  once  the  poet's  theme,  the  muses'  boast, 

Now  lie  in  ruins,  hi  oblivion  lost ! 

Did  they,  whose  sad  distress  these  lays  deplore, 

Unskill'd  in  Grecian,  or  in  Roman  lore, 

Unconscious  pass  along  each  famous  shore  ? 

They  did :  for  in  this  desert,  joyless  soil, 

No  flowers  of  genial  science  deign  to  smile ; 

Sad  ocean's  genius,  in  untimely  hour, 

"Withers  the  bloom  of  every  springing  flower ; 

For  native  tempests  here,  with  blasting  breath, 

Despoil,  and  doom  the  vernal  buds  to  death ; 

Here  fancy  droops,  while  sullen  clouds,  and  storm, 

The  generous  temper  of  the  soul  deform : 

Then,  if  among  the  wandering  naval  train, 

One  stripling,  exiled  from  the  Aonian  plain, 

Had  e'er,  entranced  in  fancy's  soothing  dream, 

Approach'd  to  taste  the  sweet  Castalian  stream ; 

(Since  those  salubrious  streams,  with  power  divine, 

To  purer  sense  the  soften'd  soul  refine) 

Sure  he,  amid  unsocial  mates  immured, 

To  learning  lost,  severer  grief  endured ; 

In  vain  might  Phoebus'  ray  his  mind  inspire, 

Since  fate  with  torrents  quench'd  the  kindling  fire : 


96  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [172 

If  one  this  pain  of  living  death  possest, 
It  dwelt  supreme,  Arion  !  in  thy  breast ; 
When,  with  Palemon,  watching  in  the  night 
Beneath  Pale  Cynthia's  melancholy  light, 
You  oft  recounted  those  surrounding  states, 
Whose  glory  fame  with  brazen  tongue  relates. 

Immortal  Athens  first,  in  ruin  spread, 
Contiguous  lies  at  Port  Liono's  head  ; 
Great  source  of  science !  whose  immortal  name 
Stands  foremost  in  the  glorious  roll  of  fame  ; 
Here  god-like  Socrates,  and  Plato  shone, 
And,  firm  to  truth,  eternal  honour  won  ; 
The  first  in  virtue's  cause  his  life  resign'd, 
By  Heaven  pronounced  the  wisest  of  mankind ; 
The  last  proclaimed  the  spark  of  vital  fire, 
The  soul's  fine  essence,  never  could  expire ; 
Here  Solon  dwelt,  the  philosophic  sage 
That  fled  Pisistratus'  vindictive  rage  ; 
Just  Aristides  here  maintain'd  the  cause, 
Whose  sacred  precepts  shine  through  Solon's  laws : 
Of  ah1  her  towering  struc  Lures,  now  alone 
Some'  columns   stand,  with    mantling    weeds   o'er- 

grown ; 

The  wandering  stranger  near  the  port  descries 
A  milk-white  lion  of  stupendous  size, 
Of  antique  marble ;  hence  the  haven's  name, 


197]  CANTO    III.  $~i 

UnknoAvn  to  modern  natives  whence  it  came. 

Next,  in  the  gulf  of  Engia,  Corinth  lies, 
Whose  gorgeous  fabrics  .seem'd  to  strike  the  skies ; 
Whom,  though  by  tyrant  victors  oft  subdued, 
Greece,  Egypt,  Rome,  with  admiration  view'd : 
Her  name,  for  architecture  long  renown'd,     . 
Spread  like  the  foliage  which  her  pillars  crown'd  j 
But  now,  in  fatal  desolation  laid, 
Oblivion  o'er  it  draws  a  dismal  shade. 

Then  further  westward,  on  Morea's  land, 
Fair  Misitra !  thy  modern  turrets  stand : 
Ah !  who,  unmoved  with  secret  woe,  can  tell 
That  here  great  Lacedeemon's  glory  fell ; 
Here  once  she  flourish'd,  at  whose  trumpet's  sound 
War  burst  his  chains,  and  nations  shook  around ; 
Here  brave  Leonidas  from  shore  to  shore 
Through  all  Achaia  bade  her  thunders  roar : 
He,  when  imperial  Xerxes  from  afar 
Advanced  with  Persia's  sumless  hosts  to  war, 
Till  Macedonia  shrunk  beneath  his  spear, 
And  Greece  all  shudder'd  as  the  chief  drew  near ; 
He,  at  Thermopylae's  decisive  plain, 
Their  force  opposed  with  Sparta's  glorious  train ; 
Tall  Oeta  saw  the  tyrant's  conquer'd  bands 
In  gasping  millions  bleed  on  hostile  lands : 
Thus  vanquish'd,  haughty  Asia  heard  thy  name, 


98  THE   SHIPWRECK.  [22 

And  Thebes,  and  Athens,  sicken'd  at  thy  fame ; 
Thy  state,  supported  by  Lycurgus'  laws, 
Guin'd,  like  thine  arms,  superlative  applause ; 
E'en  great  Epaminondas  strove  in  vain 
To  curb  thy  spirit  with  a  Theban  chain : 
But  ah !  how  low  that  free-born  spirit  now ! 
Thy  abject  sons  to  haughty  tyrants  bow ; 
A  false,  degenerate,  superstitious  race 
Invest  thy  region,  and  its  name  disgrace. 

Not  distant  far,  Arcadia's  blest  domains 
Peloponnesus'  circling  shore  contains : 
Thrice  happy  soil !  where,  still  serenely  gay, 
Indulgent  Flora  breathed  perpetual  May : 
Where  buxom  Ceres  bade  each  fertile  field 
Spontaneous  gifts  hi  rich  profusion  yield ; 
Then,  with  some  rural  nymph  supremely  blest, 
While  transport  glow'd  in  each  enamour'd  breast, 
Each  faithful  shepherd  told  his  tender  pain, 
And  sung  of  sylvan  sports  in  artless  strain ; 
Soft  as  the  happy  swain's  enchanting  lay 
That  pipes  among  The  Shades  of  Endermay : 
Now,  sad  reverse !  oppression's  iron  hand 
Enslaves  her  natives,  and  despoils  her  land ; 
In  lawless  rapine  bred,  a  sanguine  tram, 
With  midnight  ravage,  scour  the  uncultured  plain. 

Westward  of  these,  beyond  the  Isthmus,  lies 


249J  CANTO   III.  99 

The  long  sought  isle  of.  Ithacus  the  wise ; 

"Where  fair  Penelope,  of  him  deprived, 

To  guard  her  honour  endless  schemes  contrived : 

She,  only  shielded  by  a  stripling  son, 

Her  lord  Ulysses  long  to  Ilion  gone, 

Each  bold  attempt  of  suitor-kings  repell'd, 

And  undefiled  her  nuptial  contract  held ; 

True  to  her  vows,  and  resolutely  chaste, 

Met  arts  with  art,  and  triumphed  at  the  last. 

Argos,  in  Greece  forgotten  and  unknown, 
Still  seems  her  cruel  fortune  to  bemoan : 
Argos,  whose  monarch  led  the  Grecian  hosts 
Across  the  JEgean  main  to  Dardan  coasts : 
Unhappy  prince !  who,  on  a  hostile  shore, 
Fatigue,  and  danger,  ten  long  winters  bore  ; 
And  when  to  native  realms  restored  at  last 
To  reap  the  harvest  of  thy  labours  past, 
There  found  a  perjured  friend,  and  faithless  wife, 
"Who  sacrificed  to  impious  lust  thy  life : 
Fast  by  Arcadia  stretch  these  desert  plains, 
And  o'er  the  land  a  gloomy  tyrant  reigns. 

Next,  Macronisi  is  adjacent  seen, 
"Where  adverse  winds  detain'd  the  Spartan  queen ; 
For  whom,  in  arms  combined,  the  Grecian  host, 
With  vengeance  fired,  invaded  Phrygia's  coast ; 
For  whom  so  long  they  labour'd  to  destroy 


100  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [275 

The  lofty  turrets  of  imperial  Troy ; 
Here  driven  by  Juno's  rage,  the  hapless  dame, 
Forlorn  of  heart,  from  ruin'd  Ilion  came : 
The  port  an  image  bears  of  Parian  stone, 
Of  ancient  fabric,  but  of  date  unknown. 

Due  east  from  this  appears  the  immortal  shore 
That  sacred  Phoebus,  and  Diana  bore, 
Delos  !  through  all  the  JEgean  seas  renown'd, 
Whose  coast  the  rocky  Cyclades  surround ; 
By  Phoebus  honour'd,  and  by  Greece  revered, 
Her  hallow'd  groves  e'en  distant  Persia  fear'd : 
But  now  a  desert  unfrequented  land, 
No  human  footstep  marks  the  trackless  sand. 

Thence  to  the  north  by  Asia's  western  bound 
Fair  Lemnos  stands,  with  rising  marble  crown'd ; 
Where,  in  her  rage,  avenging  Juno  hurl'd 
Ill-fated  Vuican  from  the  ethereal  world : 
There  his  eternal  anvils  first  he  rear'd ; 
Then,  forged  by  Cyclopean  art,  appear'd 
Thunders  that  shook  the  skies  with  dire  alarms, 
And  form'd,  by  skill  divine:,  immortal  arms ; 
There,  with  this  crippled  wretch,  the  foul  disgrace 
And  living  scandal  of  the  empyreal  race, 
In  wedlock  lived  the  beauteous  queen  of  love ; 
Can  such  sensations  heavenly  bosoms  move ! 

Eastward  of  this  appears  the  Dardan  shore, 


301]  CANTO    III.  101 

That  once  the  imperial. towers  of  Ilium  bbre, 

Illustrious  Troy  !  renown'd  in  every  clime 

Through  the  long  records  of  succeeding  time ; 

Who  saw  protecting  gods  from  heaven  descend 

Full  oft,  thy  royal  bulwarks  to  defend : 

Though  chiefs  unnumber'd  in  her  cause  were  slain, 

With  fate  the  gods,  and  heroes,  fought  in  vain ! 

That  refuge  of  perfidious  Helen's  shame 

At  midnight  was  involved  in  Grecian  flame  ; 

And  now,  by  time's  deep  ploughshare  harrow'd  o'er, 

The  seat  of  sacred  Troy  is  found  no  more : 

No  trace  of  her  proud  fabrics  now  remains, 

But  corn,  and  vines,  enrich  her  cultured  plains  ; 

Silver  Scamander  laves  the  verdant  shore, 

Scamander,  oft  o'erflowM  with  hostile  gore. 

Not  far  removed  from  Ilion's  famous  land 
In  counter-view  appears  the  Thracian  strand, 
Where  beauteous  Hero,  from  the  turret's  height, 
Display'd  her  cresset  each  revolving  night ; 
Whose  gleam  directed  loved  Leander  o'er 
The  rolling  Hellespont  from  Asia's  shore : 
Till  in  a  fated  hour,  on  Thracia's  coast, 
She  saw  her  lover's  lifeless  body  tost ; 
Then  felt  her  bosom  agony  severe, 
Her  eyes,  sad  gazing,  pour'd  the  incessant  tear ; 
O'erwhelm'd  with  anguish,  frantic  with  despair, 


102  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [327 

She  beat  her  swelling  breast,  and  tore  her  hair ; 
On  dear  Leander's  name  in  vain  she  cried, 
Then  headlong  plunged  into  the  parting  tide : 
The  exulting  tide  received  the  lovely  maid, 
And  proudly  from  the  strand  its  freight  convey'd. 
Far  west  of  Thrace,  beyond  the  -ZEgean  main, 
Remote  from  ocean  lies  the  Delphic  plain  : 
The  sacred  oracle  of  Phoebus  there 
High  o'er  the  mount  arose,  divinely  fair ! 
Achaian  marble  form'd  the  gorgeous  pile, 
August  the  fabric !  elegant  its  style  ! 
On  brazen  hinges  turn'd  the  silver  doors, 
And  chequer'd  marble  paved  the  polish'd  floors ;      x 
The  roof,  where  storied  tablature  appear'd, 
On  columns  of  Corinthian  mould  was  rearM ; 
Of  shining  porphyry  the  shafts  were  framed, 
And  round  the  hollow  dome  bright  jewels  flamed : 
Apollo's  priests,  before  the  holy  shrine 
Suppliant,  pour'd  forth  their  orisons  divine ; 
To  front  the  sun's  declining  ray  'twas  placed, 
With  golden  harps  and  branching  laurels  graced : 
Around  the  fane,  engraved  by  Vulcan's  hand, 
The  sciences  and  arts  were  seen  to  stand ; 
Here  JEsculapius'  snake  display'd  his  crest, 
And  burning  glories  sparkled  on  his  breast ; 
While  from  his  eye's  insufferable  light, 


353]  CAXTO    III.  103 

Disease  and  death  recoil'd  in  headlong  flight : 
Of  this  great  temple,  through  all  time  renown'd, 
Sunk  in  oblivion,  no  remains  are  found. 

Contiguous  here,  with  hallow'd  woods  o'erspread^ 
Renown'd  Parnassus  lifts  its  honour'd  head ; 
There  roses  blossom  in  eternal  spring, 
And  strains  celestial  feather'd  warblers  singr 
Apollo,  here,  bestows  the  unfading  wreath; 
Here  zephyrs  aromatic  odours  breathe ; 
They  o'er  Castalian  plains  diffuse  perfume, 
Where  round  the  scene  perennial  laurels  bloom ; 
Fair  daughters  of  the  sun,  the  sacred  nine ! 
Here  wake  to  ecstasy  their  harps  divine, 
Or  bid  the  Paphian  lute  mellifluous  play, 
And  tune  to  plaintive  love  the  liquid  lay ; 
Their  numbers  every  mental  storm  control, 
And  lull  to  harmony  the  afflicted  soul, 
With  heavenly  balm  the  tortured  breast  compose, 
And  soothe  the  agony  of  latent  woes : 
The  verdant  shades  that  Helicon  surround, 
On  rosy  gales  seraphic  tunes  resound : 
Perpetual  summers  crown  the  happy  hours, 
Sweet  as  the  breath  that  fans  Elysian  flowers : 
Hence  pleasure  dances  in  an  endless  round, 
And  love  and  joy,  ineffable,  abound.  [strains 

IV.  Stop,  wandering  thought !  methinks  I  feel  their 


104  THE    SHIPWRECK.  L3"9 

Diffuse  delicious  languor  through  my  veins  : 
Adieu,  ye  flowery  vales,  and  fragrant  scenes, 
Delightful  bowers,  and  ever  vernal  greens ! 
Adieu,  ye  streams !  that  o'er  enchanted  ground 
In  lucid  maze  the  Aonian  hill  surround ; 
Ye  fairy  scenes !  where  fancy  loves  to  dwell, 
And  young  delight,  for  ever,  oh  !  farewell ! 
The  soul  with  tender  luxury  you  fill, 
And  o'er  the  sense  Lethean  dews  distill  — 
Awake,  O  memory !  from  the  inglorious  dream, 
With  brazen  lungs  resume  the  kindling  theme  ; 
Collect  thy  powers,  arouse  thy  vital  fire, 
Ye  spirits  of  the  storm  my  verse  inspire  ! 
Hoarse  as  the  whirlwinds  that  enrage  the  main, 
In  torrent  pour  along  the  swelling  strain. 

Now,  through  the  parting  wave  impetuous  bore, 
The  scudding  vessel  stemm'd  the  Athenian  shore ; 
The  pilots,  as  the  waves  behind  her  swell, 
Still  with  the  wheeling  stern  their  force  repell ; 
For  this  assault  should  either  quarter  feel, 
Again  to  flank  the  tempest  ehe  might  reel : 
The  steersmen  every  bidden  turn  apply, 
To  right,  and  left,  the  spokes  alternate  fly  — 
Thus,  when  some  conquer'd  host  retreats  in  fear, 
The  bravest  leaders  guard  the  broken  rear ; 
Indignant  they  retire,  and  long  oppose 


405J  CANTO    III.  105 

Superior  armies  that  around  them  close  ; 

Still  shield  the  flanks,  the  routed  squadrons  join, 

And  guide  the  flight  in  one  continued  line : 

Thus  they  direct  the  flying  bark  before 

The  impelling  floods,  that  lash  her  to  the  shore : 

High  o'er  the  poop  the  audacious  seas  aspire, 

Uproll'd  in  hills  of  fluctuating  fire  ; 

With  labouring  throes  she  rolls  on  either  side, 

And  dips  her  gunnels  in  the  yawning  tide ; 

Her  joints  unhinged  in  palsied  languors  play, 

As  ice-flakes  part  beneath  the  noon-tide  ray : 

The  gale  howls  doleful  thro'  the  blocks  and  shrouds, 

And  big  rain  pours  a  deluge  from  the  clouds ; 

From  wintry  magazines  that  sweep  the  sky, 

Descending  globes  of  hail  impetuous  fly ; 

High  on  the  masts,  with  pale  and  livid  rays, 

Amid  the  gloom  portentous  meteors  blaze ; 

The  ethereal  dome  in  mournful  pomp  array'd 

Now  buried  lies  beneath  impervious  shade, 

Now,  flashing  round  intolerable  light, 

Redoubles  all  the  horror  of  the  night  — 

Such  terror  Sinai's  trembling  hill  o'erspread, 

When  heaven's  loud  trumpet  sounded  o'er  its  head : 

It  seem'd,  the  wrathful  angel  of  the  wind 

Had  all  the  horrors  of  the  skies  combined, 

And  here,  to  one  ill-fated  ship  opposed, 


106  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [431 

At  once  the  dreadful  magazine  disclosed : 
And  lo !  tremendous  o'er  the  deep  he  springs, 
The  inflaming  sulphur  flashing  from  his  wings ; 
Hark !  his  strong  voice  the  dismal  silence  breaks, 
Mad  chaos  from  the  chains  of  death  awakes : 
Loud,  and  more  loud,  the  rolling  peals  enlarge, 
And  blue  on  deck  the  fiery  tides  discharge ; 
There  all  aghast  the  shivering  wretches  stood, 
While  chill  suspense  and  fear  congeal'd  their  blood ; 
Wide  bursts  in  dazzling  sheets  the  living  flame, 
And  dread  concussion  rends  the  ethereal  frame ; 
Sick  earth  convulsive  groans  from  shore  to  shore, 
And  nature,  shuddering,  feels  the  horrid  roar. 

Still  the  sad  prospect  rises  on  my  sight, 
Reveal'd  in  all  its  mournful  shade  and  light ; 
E'en  now  my  ear  with  quick  vibration  feels 
The  explosion  burst  in  strong  rebounding  peals ; 
Swift  through  my  pulses  glides  the  kindling  fire, 
As  lightning  glances  on  the  electric  wire : 
Yet  ah !  the  languid  colours  vainly  strive 
To  bid  the  scene  in  native  hues  revive. 

But  lo !  at  last,  from  tenfold  darkness  born, 
Forth  issues  o'er  the  wave  the  weeping  morn : 
Hail,  sacred  vision !  who,  on  orient  wings, 
The  cheering  dawn  of  light  propitious  brings ; 
All  nature  smiling  hail'd  the  vivid  ray 


457]  CANTO   III.  107 

That  gave  her  beauties  tp  returning  day, 

All  but  our  ship  !  which,  groaning  on  the  tide, 

No  kind  relief,  no  gleam  of  hope  descried ; 

For  now  in  front  her  trembling  inmates  see 

The  hills  of  Greece  emerging  on  the  lee  — 

So  the  lost  lover  views  that  fatal  morn, 

On  which,  for  ever  from  his  bosom  torn, 

The  maid  adored  resigns  her  blooming  charms, 

To  bless  with  love  some  happier  rival's  arms ; 

So  to  Eliza  dawn'd  that  cruel  day 

That  tore  ^Eneas  from  her  sight  away, 

That  saw  him  parting  never  to  return, 

Herself  in  funeral  flames  decreed  to  burn. 

0  yet  in  clouds,  thou  genial  source  of  light ! 

Conceal  thy  radiant  glories  from  our  sight ; 

Go,  with  thy  smile  adorn  the  happy  plain, 

And  gild  the  scenes  where  health  and  pleasure  reign : 

But  let  not  here,  in  scorn,  thy  wanton  beam 

Insult  the  dreadful  grandeur  of  my  theme. 

While  shoreward  now  the  bounding  vessel  flies, 
Full  in  her  van  St.  George's  cliffs  arise ; 
High  o'er  the  rest  a  pointed  crag  is  seen, 
That  hung  projecting  o'er  a  mossy  green ; 
Huge  breakers  on  the  larboard  bow  appear, 
And  full  a-head  its  eastern  ledges  bear : 
To  steer  more  eastward  Albert  still  commands, 


108  THE    SHIPWKECK.  f483 

And  shun,  if  possible,  the  fatal  strands  — 

Nearer  and  nearer  now  the  danger  grows, 

And  all  their  skill  relentless  fates  oppose ; 

For  while  more  eastward  they  direct  the  prow, 

Enormous  waves  the  quivering  deck  o'erflow ; 

While,  as  she  wheels,  unable  to  subdue 

Her  sallies,  still  they  dread  her  broaching-to : 

Alarming  thought !  for  now  no  more  a-lee 

Her  trembling  side  could  bear  the  mountain'd  sea, 

And  if  pursuing  waves  she-  scuds  before, 

Headlong  she  runs  upon  the  frightful  shore ; 

A  shore,  where  shelves  and  hidden  rocks  abound, 

Where  death  in  secret  ambush  lurks  around : 

Not  half  so  dreadful  to  JEneas'  eyes 

The  straits  of  Sicily  were  seen  to  rise, 

"When  Palinurus  from  the  helm  descried 

The  rocks  of  Scylla  on  his  eastern  side, 

While  in  the  west,  with  hideous  yawn  disclosed, 

His  onward  path  Charybdis'  gulf  opposed ; 

The  double  danger  he  alternate  view'd, 

And  cautiously  his  arduous  track  pursued : 

Thus,  while  to  right  and  left  destruction  lies, 

Between  the  extremes  the  daring  vessel  flies : 

With  terrible  irruption  bursting  o'er 

The  marble  clifis,  tremendous  surges  roar ; 

Hoarse  thro'  each  winding  creek  the  tempest  raves, 


509J  CANTO    III.  109 

And  hollow  rocks  repeat^  the  groan  of  waves: 
Should  once  the  bottom  strike  this  cruel  shore, 
The  parting  ship  that  instant  is  no  more ; 
Nor  she  alone,  but  with  her  all  the  crew 
Beyond  relief  are  doom'd  to  perish  too : 
But  haply  she  escapes  the  dreadful  strand, 
Tho'  scarce  her  length  in  distance  from  the  land ; 
Swift  as  the  weapon  quits  the  Scythian  bow, 
She  cleaves  the  burning  billows  with  her  prow, 
And  forward  hurrying  with  impetuous  haste, 
Borne  on  the  tempest's  wings  the  isle  she  past : 
With  longing  eyes,  and  agony  of  mind, 
The  sailors  view  this  refuge  left  behind ; 
Happy  to  bribe  with  India's  richest  ore 
A  safe  accession  to  that  barren  shore  — 
When  in  the  dark  Peruvian  mine  confined, 
Lost  to  the  cheerful  commerce  of  mankind, 
The  groaning  captive  wastes  his  life  away, 
For  ever  exiled  from  the  realms  of  day, 
Not  half  such  pangs  his  bosom  agonize 
When  up  to  distant  light  he  rolls  his  eyes ! 
Where  the  broad  sun,  in  his  diurnal  way 
Imparts  to  all  beside  his  vivid  ray, 
While,  all  forlorn,  the  victim  pines  in  vain 
For  scenes  he  never  shall  possess  again. 

V.  But  now  Athenian  mountains  they  descry, 


110  THE    SHIPWRECK.  L535 

And  o'er  the  surge  Colonna  frowns  on  high ; 
Where  marble  columns,  long  by  time  defaced, 
Moss-cover'd  on  the  lofty  Cape  are  placed  ; 
There  rear'd  by  fair  devotion  to  sustain 
In  elder  times  Tritonia's  sacred  fane ; 
The  circling  beach  in  murderous  form  appears, 
Decisive  goal  of  all  their  hopes  and  fears : 
The  seamen  now  in  wild  amazement  see 
The  scene  of  ruin  rise  beneath  their  lee ; 
Swift  from  their  minds  elapsed  all  dangers  past, 
As  dumb  with  terror  they  behold  the  last. 
And  now,  while  wing'd  with  ruin  from  on  high, 
Through  the  rent  cloud  the  ragged  lightnings  fly, 
A  flash,  quick  glancing  on  the  nerves'of  light, 
Struck  the  pale  helmsman  with  eternal  night : 
Rodmond,  who  heard  a  piteous  groan  behind, 
Touch'd  with  compassion  gazed  upon  the  blind ; 
And,  while  around  his  sad  companions  crowd, 
He  guides  the  unhappy  victim  to  the  shroud : 
"  Hie  thee  aloft,  my  gallant  friend !  "  he  cries ; 
"  Thy  only  succour  on  the  mast  relies." 
The  helm,  bereft  of  half  its  vital  force, 
Now  scarce  subdued  the  wild  unbridled  course ; 
Quick  to  the  abandon'd  wheel  Arion  came, 
The  ship's  tempestuous  sallies  to  reclaim : 
The  vessel,  while  the  dread  event  draws  nigh, 


561]  CANTO   III.  Ill 

Seems  more  impatient  o'er  the  waves  to  fly ; 
Fate  spurs  her  on !  —  Thus,  issuing  from  afar, 
Advances  to  the  sun  some  blazing  star, 
And,  as  it  feels  attraction's  kindling  force, 
Springs  onward  with  accelerated  course. 

The  moment  fraught  with  fate  approaches  fast ! 
While  thronging  sailors  climb  each  quivering  mast ; 
The  ship  no  longer  now  must  stem  the  land, 
And,  Hard  a  starboard!  is  the  last  command: 
While  every  suppliant  voice  to  Heaven  applies, 
The  prow,  swift  wheeling,  to  the  westward  flies ; 
Twelve  sailors,  on  the  fore-mast  who  depend, 
High  on  the  platform  of  the  top  ascend. 
Fatal  retreat !  for,  while  the  plunging  prow 
Immerges  headlong  in  the  wave  below, 
Down  prest  by  watery  weight  the  bowsprit  bends, 
And  from  above  the  stem  deep-crashing  rends : 
Beneath  her  bow  the  floating  ruins  lie ; 
The  fore-mast  totters,  unsustain'd  on  high ; 
And  now  the  ship,  forelifted  by  the  sea, 
Hurls  the  tall-fabric  backward  o'er  her  lee ; 
While,  in  the  general  wreck,  the  faithful  stay 
Drags  the  main  top-mast  by  the  cap  away : 
Flung  from  the  mast,  the  seamen  strive  in  vain, 
Through  hostile  floods,  their  vessel  to  regain ; 
Weak  hope,  alas !  they  buffet  long  the  wave, 


112  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [587 

And  grasp  at  life  though  sinking  in  the  grave ; 
Till  all  exhausted,  and  bereft  of  strength, 
O'erpowcr'd  they  yield  to  cruel  fate  at  length ; 
The  burying  waters  close  around  their  head, 
They  sink !  for  ever  number'd  with  the  dead. 

Those  who  remain  the  weather  shrouds  embrace, 
Nor  longer  mourn  their  lost  companions'  case ; 
Transfixt-with  terror  at  the  approaching  doom, 
Self-pity  in  their  breasts  alone  has  room : 
Albert,  and  Rodmond,  and  Palemon,  near 
With  young  Arion,  on  the  mast  appear ; 
E'en  they,  amid  the  unspeakable  distress, 
In  every  look  distracting  thoughts  confess, 
In  every  vein  the  refluent  blood  congeals, 
And  every  bosom  mortal  terror  feels ; 
Begirt  with  all  the  horrors  of  the  main 
They  view'd  the  adjacent  shore,  but  view'd  in  vain : 
Such  torments  in  the  drear  abodes  of  hell, 
Where  sad  despair  laments  with  rueful  yell, 
Such  torments  agonize  the  damned  breast, 
That  sees  remote  the  mansions  of  the  blest. 

It  comes !  the  dire  catastrophe  draws  near, 
Lash'd  furious  on  by  destiny  severe : 
The  ship  hangs  hovering  on  the  verge  of  death, 
Hell  yawns,  rocks  rise,  and  breakers  roar  beneath ! 
O  yet  confirm  my  heart,  ye  powers  above  ! 


613]  CANTO    III.  113 

This  last  tremendous  shock  of  fate  to  prove ; 
The  tottering  frame  of  reason  yet  sustain, 
Nor  let  this  total  havoc  whirl  my  brain ; 
Since  I,  all  trembling  in  extreme  distress, 
Must  still  the  horrible  result  express. 

In  vain,  alas !  the  sacred  shades  of  yore 
Would  arm  the  mind  with  philosophic  lore ; 
In  vain  they'd  teach  us,  at  the  latest  breath 
To  smile  serene  amid  the  pangs  of  death : 
Immortal  Zeno's  self  would  trembling  see 
Inexorable  fate  beneath  the  lee ; 
And  Epictetus  at  the  sight,  in  vain 
Attempt  his  stoic  firmness  to  retain ; 
Had  Socrates,  for  godlike  virtue  famed, 
And  wisest  of  the  sons  of  men  proclaim'd, 
Spectator  of  such  various  horrors  been, 
E'en  he  had  stagger'd  at  this  dreadful  scene. 

In  vain  the  cords  and  axes  were  prepared, 
For  every  wave  now  smites  the  quivering  yard ; 
High  o'er  the  ship  they  throw  a  dreadful  shade, 
Then  on  her  burst  in  terrible  cascade ; 
Across  the  founder'd  deck  o'erwhelming  roar, 
And  foaming,  swelling,  bound  upon  the  shore. 
Swift  up  the  mounting  billow  now  she  flies, 
Her  shatter'd  top  half-buried  in  the  skies ; 
Borne  o'er  a  latent  reef  the  bull  impends, 
8 


114  THE    SHIP^VRECK.  [639 

Then  thundering  on  the  marble  crags  descends : 
Her  ponderous  bulk  the  dire  concussion  feels, 
And  o'er  upheaving  surges  wounded  reels  — 
Again  she  plunges  !  hark !  a  second  shock 
Bilges  the  splitting  vessel  on  the  rock  — 
Down  on  the  vale  of  death,  with  dismal  cries, 
The  fated  victims  shuddering  cast  their  eyes 
In  wild  despair ;  while  yet  another  stroke 
With  strong  convulsion  rends  the  solid  oak : 
Ah  Heaven !  —  behold  her  crashing  ribs  divide ! 
She  loosens,  parts,  and  spreads  in  ruin  o'er  the  tide. 

Oh,  were  it  mine  with  sacred  Maro's  art 
To  wake  to  sympathy  the  feeling  heart, 
Like  him,  the  smooth  and  mournful  verse  to  dress 
In  all  the  pomp  of  exquisite  distress ; 
Then,  too  severely  taught  by  cruel  fate, 
To  share  in  all  the  perils  I  relate, 
Then  might  I,  with  unrivall'd  strains,  deplore 
The  impervious  horrors  of  a  leeward  shore. 

As  o'er  the  surf  the  bending  main-mast  hung, 
Still  on  the  rigging  thirty  seamen  clung : 
Some  on  a  broken  crag  were  struggling  cast, 
And  there  by  oozy  tangles  grappled  fast; 
Awhile  they  bore  the  o'erwhelming  billows'  rage, 
Unequal  combat  with  their  fate  to  wage ; 
Till  all  benumb'd,  and  feeble,  they  forego 


665]  CANTO   III.  115 

Their  slippery  hold,  ami  sink  to  shades  below : 
Some,  from  the  main-yard-arm  impetuous  thrown 
On  marble  ridges,  die  without  a  groan : 
Three  with  Palemon  on  their  skill  depend, 
And  from  the  wreck  on  oars  and  rafts  descend ; 
Now  on  the  mountain-wave  on  high  they  ride, 
Then  downward  plunge  beneath  the  involving  tide ; 
Till  one,  who  seems  in  agony  to  strive, 
The  whirling  breakers  heave  on  shore  alive : 
The  rest  a  speedier  end  of  anguish  knew, 
And  prest  the  stony  beach  —  a  lifeless  crew ! 
Next,  0  unhappy  chief!  the  eternal  doom. 
Of  Heaven  decreed  thee  to  the  briny  tomb : 
What  scenes  of  misery  torment  thy  view ! 
What  painful  struggles  of  thy  dying  crew ! 
Thy  perish'd  hopes  all  buried  in  the  flood 
O'erspread  with  corses,  red  with  human  blood ! 
So  pierced  with  anguish  hoary  Priam  gazed, 
When  Troy's  imperial  domes  in  ruin  blazed ; 
While  he,  severest  sorrow  doom'd  to  feel, 
Expired  beneath  the  victor's  murdering  steel  — 
Thus  with  his  helpless  partners  to  the  last, 
Sad  refuge !  Albert  grasps  the  floating  mast. 
His  soul  could  yet  sustain  this  mortal  blow, 
But  droops,  alas !  beneath  superior  woe  ; 
For  now  strong  nature's  sympathetic  chain 


116  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [691 

Tugs  at  his  yearning  heart  with  powerful  strain : 
His  faithful  wife,  for  ever  doom'd  to  mourn 
For  him,  alas !  who  never  shall  return, 
To  black  adversity's  approach  exposed, 
With  want,  and  hardships  unforeseen  enclosed  ; 
His  lovely  daughter,  left  without  a  friend 
Her  innocence  to  succour  and  defend, 
By  youth  and  indigence  set  forth  a  prey 
To  lawless  guilt,  that  flatters  to  betray  — 
While  these  reflections  rack  his  feeling  mind, 
Rodmond,  who  hung  beside,  his  grasp  resign'd ; 
And,  as  the  tumbling  waters  o'er  him  roll'd, 
His  outstretch'd  arms  the  master's  legs  enfold  : 
Sad  Albert  feels  their  dissolution  near, 
And  strives  in  vain  his  fetter'd  limbs  to  clear, 
For  death  bids  every  clenching  joint  adhere  : 
All  faint,  to  Heaven  he  throws  his  dying  eyes, 
And,  Oh  protect  my  wife  and  child  !  he  cries  — 
The  gushing  streams  roll  back  the  unfinish'd  sound, 
He  gasps !  and  sinks  amid  the  vast  profound. 
Five  only  left  of  all  the  shipwreck'd  throng 
Yet  ride  the  mast  which  shoreward  drives  along ; 
With  these  Arion  still  his  hold  secures, 
And  all  assaults  of  hostile  waves  endures : 
O'er  the  dire  prospect  as  for  life  he  strives, 
He  looks  if  poor  Palemon  yet  survives  — 


71 7]  CAXTO    III.  117 

"  Ah  wnerefore,  trusting  to  unequal  art, 
Didst  thou,  incautious !  from  the  wreck  depart  ? 
Alas !  these  rocks  all  human  skill  defy ; 
"Who  strikes  them  once,  beyond  relief  must  die : 
And  now  sore  wounded,  thou  perhaps  art  tost 
On  these,  or  in  some  oozy  cavern  lost : " 
Thus  thought  Arion  ;  anxious  gazing  round 
In  vain,  his  eyes  no  more  Palemon  found  — 
The  demons  of  destruction  hover  nigh, 
And  thick  their  mortal  shafts  commission'd  fly : 
When  now  a  breaking  surge,  with  forceful  sway, 
Two,  next  Arion,  furious  tears  away ; 
Hurl'd  on  the  crags,  behold  they  gasp,  they  bleed ! 
And  groaning,  cling  upon  the  elusive  weed ; 
Another  billow  bursts  in  boundless  roar ! 
Arion  sinks !  and  memory  views  no  more. 
Ha !  total  night  and  horror  here  preside, 
My  stunn'd  ear  tingles  to  the  whizzing  tide  ; 
It  is  their  funeral  knell !  and  gliding  near 
Methinks  the  phantoms  of  the  dead  appear ; 
But  lo !  emerging  from  the  watery  grave 
Again  they  float  incumbent  on  the  wave, 
Again  the  dismal  prospect  opens  round,  — 
The  wreck,  the  shore,  the  dying,  and  the  drown'd ! 
And  see !  enfeebled  by  repeated  shocks, 
Those  two,  who  scramble  on  the  adjacent  rocks, 


118  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [743 

Their  faithless  hold  no  longer  can  retain, 
They  sink  o'erwhelm'd  !  and  never  rise  again. 

Two  with  Arion  yet  the  mast  upbore, 
That  now  above  the  ridges  reach'd  the  shore  ; 
Still  trembling  to  descend,  they  downward  gaze 
With  horror  pale,  and  torpid  witli  amaze : 
The  floods  recoil !  the  ground  appears  below  ! 
And  life's  faint  embers  now  rekindling  glow ; 
Awhile  they  wait  the  exhausted  waves'  retreat, 
Then  climb  slow  up  the  beach  with  hands  and  feet  — 
O  Heaven !  deliver'd  by  whose  sovereign  hand 
Still  on  destruction's  brink  they  shuddering  stand, 
Receive  the  languid  incense  they  bestow, 
That,  damp  with  death,  appears  not  yet  to  glow ; 
To  thee  each  soul  the  warm  oblation  pays 
"With  trembling  ardour  of  unequal  praise ; 
In  every  heart  dismay  with  wonder  strives, 
And  hope  the  sicken'd  spark  of.life  revives, 
Her  magic  powers  their  exiled  health  restore, 
Till  horror  and  despair  are  felt  no  more. 

Roused  by  the  blustering  tempest  of  the  night, 
A  troop  of  Grecians  mount  Colonna's  height ; 
When,  gazing  down  with  horror  on  the  flood, 
Full  to  their  View  the  scene  of  ruin  stood  — 
The  surf  with  mangled  bodies  strew'd  around, 
And  those  yet  breathing  on  the  sea-wash'd  ground : 


769]  CANTO   III.  119 

Though  lost  to  science  £nd  the  nobler  arts, 
Yet  nature's  lore  inform'd  their  feeling  hearts ; 
Strait  down  the  vale  with  hastening  steps  they  hied, 
The  unhappy  sufferers  to  assist,  and  guide. 

Meanwhile,  those  three  escaped  beneath  explore 
The  first  adventurous  youth  who  reach'd  the  shore : 
Panting,  with  eyes  averted  from  the  day, 
Prone,  helpless,  on  the  tangly  beach  he  lay  — 
It  is  Palemon  !  oh,  what  tumults  roll 
With  hope  and  terror  in  Arion's  soul ; 
"  If  yet  unhurt  he  lives  again  to  view 
His  friend,  and  this  sole  remnant  of  our  crew, 
"With  us  to  travel  through  this  foreign  zone, 
And  share  the  future  good  or  ill  unknown  ?  " 
Arion  thus  ;  but  ah,  sad  doom  of  fate ! 
That  bleeding  memory  sorrows  to  relate  ; 
While  yet  afloat,  on  some  resisting  rock 
His  ribs  were  dash'd,  and  fractured  with  the  shock : 
Heart-piercing  sight !  those  cheeks  so  late  array'd 
In  beauty's  bloom,  are  pale  with  mortal  shade ; 
Distilling  blood  his  lovely  breast  o'erspread, 
And  clogg'd  the  golden  tresses  of  his  head : 
Nor  yet  the  lungs  by  this  pernicious  stroke 
Were  wounded,  or  the  vocal  organs  broke. 
Down  from  his  neck,  with  blazing  gems  array'd, 
Thy  image,  lovely  Anna !  hung  portray'd ; 


120  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [795 

The  unconscious  figure,  smiling  all  serene, 
Suspended  in  a  golden  chain  was  seen : 
Hadst  thou,  soft  maiden  !  in  this  hour  of  woe 
Beheld  him  writhing  from  the  deadly  blow, 
What  force  of  art,  what  language  could  express 
Thine  agony,  thine  exquisite  distress  ? 
But  thou,  alas !  art  doom'd  to  weep  in  vain 
For  him  thine  eyes  shall  never  see  again. 
With  dumb  amazement  pale,  Arion  gazed, 
And  cautiously  the  wounded  youth  upraised ; 
Palemon  then,  with  equal  pangs  opprest, 
In  faltering  accents  thus  his  friend  addrest : 
"  O  rescued  from  destruction  late  so  nigh, 
Beneath  whose  fatal  influence  doom'd  I  lie ; 
Are  we  then,  exiled  to  this  last  retreat 
Of  life,  unhappy !  thus  decreed  to  meet  ? 
Ah !  how  unlike  what  y ester-morn  enjoy 'd, 
Enchanting  hopes !  for  ever  now  destroy'd ; 
For  wounded,  far  beyond  all  healing  power, 
Palemon  dies,  and  this  his  final  hour : 
By  those  fell  breakers,  where  in  vain  I  strove, 
At  once  cut  off  from  fortune,  life,  and  love ! 
Far  other  scenes  must  soon  present  my  sight, 
That  lie  deep-buried  yet  in  tenfold  night  — 
Ah !  wretched  father  of  a  wretched  son, 
Whom  thy  paternal  prudence  has  undone ; 


821]  CANTO    III.  121 

How  will  remembrance  of  this  blinded  care 

Bend  down  thy  head  with  anguish,  and  despair ! 

Such  dire  effects  from  avarice  arise, 

That,  deaf  to  nature's  voice,  and  vainly  wise, 

With  force  severe  endeavours  to  control 

The  noblest  passions  that  inspire  the  soul. 

But,  O  thou  sacred  power !  whose  law  connects 

The  eternal  chain  of  causes  and  effects, 

Let  not  thy  chastening  ministers  of  rage 

Afflict  with  sharp  remorse  his  feeble  age  : 

And  you,  Arion !  who  with  these  the  last 

Of  all  our  crew  survive  the  shipwreck  past  — 

Ah !  cease  to  mourn,  those  friendly  tears  restrain, 

Nor  give  my  dying  moments  keener  pain  ! 

Since  heaven  may  soon  thy  wandering  steps  restore, 

When  parted  hence,  to  England's  distant  shore  ; 

Shouldst  thou,  the  unwilling  messenger  of  fate, 

To  him  the  tragic  story  first  relate  ; 

Oh !  friendship's  generous  ardour  then  suppress, 

Nor  hint  the  fatal  cause  of  my  distress ; 

Nor  let  each  horrid  incident  sustain 

The  lengthen'd  tale  to  aggravate  his  pain : 

Ah !  then  remember  well  my  last  request 

For  her  who  reigns  for  ever  in  my  breast ; 

Yet  let  him  prove  a  father  and  a  friend, 

The  helpless  maid  to  succour  and  defend  — 


122  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [847 

Say,  I  this  suit  implored  with  parting  breath, 
So  Heaven  befriend  him  at  his  hour  of  death ! 
But,  oh !  to  lovely  Anna  shouldst  thou  tell 
What  dire  untimely  end  thy  friend  befell ; 
Draw  o'er  the  dismal  scene  soft  pity's  veil, 
And  lightly  touch  the  lamentable  tale : 
Say  that  my  love,  inviolably  true, 
No  change,  no  diminution  ever  knew ; 
Lo  !  her  bright  image  pendent  on  my  neck 
Is  all  Palemon  rescued  from  the  wreck ; 
Take  it !  and  say,  when  panting  in  the  wave 
I  struggled  life  and  this  alone  to  save. 

"  My  soul,  that  fluttering  hastens  to  be  free, 
Would  yet  a  train  of  thoughts  impart  to  thee, 
But  strives  in  vain  ;  the  chilling  ice  of  death     ' 
Congeals   my  blood,   and  chokes   the    stream    of 

breath ; 

Resign'd,  she  quits  her  comfortless  abode 
To  course  that  long,  unknown,  eternal  road  — 
0  sacred  source  of  ever-living  light ! 
Conduct  the  weary  wanderer  in  her  flight : 
Direct  her  onward  to  that  peaceful  shore, 
Where  peril,  pain,  and  death  prevail  no  more. 

"  When  thou  some  tale  of  hapless  love  shalt  hear, 
That  steals  from  pity's  eye  the  melting  tear ; 
Of  two  chaste  hearts,  by  mutual  passion  join'd, 


872J  CANTO    III.  123 

To  absence,  sorrow,  and.  despair  consign'd ; 
Oh !  then,  to  swell  the  tides  of  social  woe 
That  heal  the  afflicted  bosom  they  o'erflow, 
While  memory  dictates,  this  sad  shipwreck  tell, 
And  what  distress  thy  wretched  friend  befell : 
Then,  while  in  streams  of  soft  compassion  drown' d, 
The  swains  lament,  and  maidens  weep  around ; 
While  lisping  children,  touch'd  with  infant  fear, 
With  wonder  gaze,  and  drop  the  unconscious  tear ; 
Oh !  then  this  moral  bid  their  souls  retain, 
All  thoughts  of  happiness  on  earth  are  vain ! " 

The  last  faint  accents  trembled  on  his  tongue, 
That  now  inactive  to  the  palate  clung ; 
His  bosom  heaves  a  mortal  groan  —  he  dies ! 
And  shades  eternal  sink  upon  his  eyes. 

As  thus  defaced  in  death  Palemon  lay, 
Arion  gazed  upon  the  lifeless  clay ; 
Transfix'd  he  stood,  with  awful  terror  fill'd, 
While  down  his  cheek  the  silent  drops  distill'd : 

"  O  ill-starr'd  votary  of  unspotted  truth ! 
Untimely  perish'd  in  the  bloom  of  youth ; 
Should  e'er  thy  friend  arrive  on  Albion's  land, 
He  will  obey,  though  painful,  thy  command  ; 
His  tongue  the  dreadful  story  shall  display, 
And  all  the  horrors  of  this  dismal  day : 
Disastrous  day !  what  ruin  hast  thou  bred, 


124  THE    SHIPWRECK.  [898 

What  anguish  to  the  living  and  the  dead ! 
How  hast  thou  left  the  widow  all  forlorn ; 
And  ever  doom'd  the  orphan  child  to  mourn, 
Through  life's  sad  journey  hopeless  to  complain : 
Can  sacred  justice  these  events  ordain  ? 
But,  O  my  soul !  avoid  that  wondrous  maze 
"Where  reason,  lost  in  endless  error,  strays ; 
As  through  this  thorny  vale  of  life  we  run, 
Great  Cause  of  all  effects,  thy  will  be  done  ! " 

Now  had  the  Grecians  on  the  beach  arrived, 
To  aid  the  helpless  few  who  yet  survived : 
While  passing,  they  behold  the  waves  o'e'rspread 
With  shatter'd  rafts  and  corses  of  the  dead ; 
Three  still  alive,  benunib'd  and  faint  they  find, 
In  mournful  silence  on  a  rock  reclined : 
The  generous. natives,  moved  with  social  pain, 
The  feeble  strangers  in  their  arms  sustain ; 
With  pitying  sighs  their  hapless  lot  deplore, 
And  lead  them  trembling  from  the  fatal  shore. 


OCCASIONAL  ELEGY, 

IX  WHICH  THE  PRECEDING  NARRATIVE   IS   CONCLUDED. 

THE  scene  of  death  is  closed !  the  mournful  strains 
Dissolve  in  dying  languor  on  the  ear ; 

Yet  pity  weeps,  yet  sympathy  complains, 

And  dumb  suspense  awaits  o'erwhelm'd  with  fear ; 

But  the  sad  muses  with  prophetic  eye 
At  once  the  future  and  the  past  explore ; 

Their  harps  oblivion's  influence  can  defy, 
And  waft  the  spirit  to  the  eternal  shore  — 

Then,  O  Palemon !  if  thy  shade  can  hear 

The  voice  of  friendship  still  lament  thy  doom, 

Yet  to  the  sad  oblations  bend  thine  ear, 
That  rise  in  vocal  incense  o'er  thy  tomb : 

From  young  Arion  first  the  news  received 
With  terror,  pale  unhappy  Anna  read ;      * 

With  inconsolable  distress  she  grieved, 

And  from  her  cheek  the  rose  of  beauty  fled ; 


126  ELECT. 

In  vain,  alas !  the  gentle  virgin  wept, 
Corrosive  anguish  nipt  her  vital  bloom ; 

O'er  her  soft  frame  diseases  sternly  crept, 
And  gave  the  lovely  victim  to  the  tomb : 

A  longer  date  of  woe,  the  widow'd  wife 

Her  lamentable  lot  afflicted  bore ; 
Yet  both  were  rescued  from  the  chains  of  life 

Before  Arion  reach'd  his  native  shore  ! 

The  father  unrelenting  phrenzy  stung, 

Untaught  in  virtue's  school  distress  to  bear ; 

Severe  remorse  his  tortured  bosom  wrung, 

He  languish'd,  groan'd,  and  perish'd  in  despair. 

Ye  lost  companions  of  distress,  adieu ! 

Your  toils,  and  pains,  and  dangers  are  no  more ; 
The  tempest  now  shall  howl  unheard  by  you, 

While  ocean  smites  in  vain  the  trembling  shore  ; 

On  you  the  blast,  surcharged  with  rain  and  snow, 
In  winter's  dismal  nights  no  more  shall  beat ; 

Unfelt  by  you  the  vertic  sun  may  glow, 

And  scorch  the  panting  earth  with  baneful  heat : 

No  more  the  joyful  maid,  with  sprightly  strain, 
Shall  wake  the  dance  to  give  you  welcome  home  ; 


ELEGY.  127 

Nor  hopeless  love  impart  undying  pain, 

When  far  from  scenes  of  social  joy  you  roam ; 

No  more  on  yon  wide  watery  waste  you  stray, 
"While  hunger  and  disease  your  life  consume, 

While  parching  thirst,  that  burns  without  allay 
Forbids  the  blasted  rose  of  health  to  bloom  ; 

No  more  you  feel  contagion's  mortal  breath 
That  taints  the  realms  with  misery  severe, 

No  more  behold  pale  famine,  scattering  death, 
With  cruel  ravage  desolate  the  year : 

The  thundering  drum,  the  trumpet's  swelling  strain 
Unheard,  shall  form  the  long  embattled  line : 

Unheard,  the  deep  foundations  of  the  main 

Shall  tremble,  when  the  hostile  squadrons  join : 

Since  grief,  fatigue,  and  hazards  still  molest 
The  wandering  vassals  of  the  faithless  deep ; 

Oh  !  happier  now  escaped  to  endless  rest, 

Than  we  who  still  survive  to  wake,  and  weep : 

What  though  no  funeral  pomp,  no  borrow'd  tear, 
Your  hour  of  death  to  gazing  crowds  shall  tell ; 

Nor  weeping  friends  attend  your  sable  bier, 
Who  sadly  listen  to  the  passing  bell ; 


128  ELEGY. 

The  tutor'd  sigh,  the  vain  parade  of  woe, 

No  real  anguish  to  the  soul  impart ; 
And  oft,  alas  !  the  tear  that  friends  bestow, 

Belies  the  latent  feelings  of  the  heart : 

What  though  no  sculptured  pile  your  name  displays, 
Like  those  who  perish  in  their  country's  cause ; 

What  though  no  epic  muse  in  living  lays 

Records  your  dreadful  daring  with  applause,  — 

Full  oft  the  flattering  marble  bids  renown 

With  blazon'd  trophies  deck  the  spotted  name ; 

And  oft,  too  oft,  the  venal  muses  crown 
The  slaves  of  vice  with  never-dying  fame. 

Yet  shall  remembrance  from  oblivion's  veil 

Relieve  your  scene,  and  sigh  with  grief  sincere ; 

And  soft  compassion  at  your  tragic  tale 
In  silent  tribute  pay  her  kindred  tear. 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

PA<?E  5,  line  3.      While  Albion  bids,  &c. 

In  the  third  edition,  the  beauty  of  the  third  and  fourth  line 
has  been  greatly  injured:  — 

"  "While  ocean  hears  vindictive  thunders  roll 
Along  his  trembling  wave  from  pole  to  pole." 

The  wave  of  ocean  cannot  be  said  to  tremble :  all  editions  subse- 
quent to  the  third,  render  this  alteration  still  more  improper  by 
reading  "trembling  waves." 

P.  5,  1.  12;      Than   ever   trembled  from   the  vocal 
string. 

In  the  third  edition,  the  following  unequal  lines  were  intro- 
duced after  the  above  passage :  — 

"  No  pomp  of  battle  swells  the  exalted  strain, 
Nor  gleaming  arms  ring  dreadful  on  the  plain ; 
But  o'er  the  scene  while  pale  remembrance  weeps, 
Fate  with  fell  triumph  rides  upon  the  deeps." 

9 


130  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  5, 1.  13.     A  scene  from  dumb  oblivion  to  restore. 

In  this  passage,  as  in  some  others,  the  third  edition  claims  a 
preference.  In  the  second,  the  lines  ran  thus :  — 

"  To  paint  a  scene  yet  strange  to  epic  lore, 
Whose  desart  soil  no  laurel  ever  bore." 

P.  5, 1.  19.     Immortal  train,  &c. 

This  passage  is  also  improved  in  the  third  edition;  it  previ- 
ously had  been  thus  expressed :  — 

"  Ye  all  recording  nine !  whose  sacred  strains 
With  sweet  enchantment  charm  Elysian  plains ; 
Whose  golden  trumpets,  fraught  with  endless  fame, 
Arts,  arms,  and  heroes  to  all  space  proclaim." 

The  two  succeeding  lines  are  very  beautiful,  though  omitted  in 
the  third  edition :  I  have  ventured  to  restore  them,  with  many 
others  of  similar  merit  — 

"  Or  in  lamenting  elegies  express 
The  varied  pang  of  exquisite  distress." 

P.  6, 1.  29.      Or  listen  to  the   enchanting  voice   of 
love. 

The  whole  of  the  beautiful  passage  from  "  If  e'er  with  trem- 
ling  hope,"  to  "  Whose  vaults  remurmur  to  the  roaring  wave," 
was  added  in  the  third  edition :  but  an  error,  either  of  the  press, 
•  or  of  the  author,  is  evident  in  the  above  line,  as  it  is  generally 
printed :  — 

"  Or  listen,  while  the  enchanting  voice  of  love." 

Mr.  Bowles  suggested  the  reading  which  I  have  followed :  Mr. 
Pocock,  to  whose  taste  I  am  greatly  indebted,  rather  prefers  "  Or 
listened  —  " 


TO    THE    INTRODUCTION.  131 

P.  6,  1.  31. 

The  solemn  cadence,  tfie  impressive  tones,  and  the  judicious 
contrast  of  imagery,  "If  e'er  with  trembling  hope,"  &c.  and 
"Oh!  by  the  hollow  blast  that  moans  around,"  are  peculiarly 
calculated  to  awake  attention,  and  are  conceived  in  the  genuine 
spirit  of  poetic  taste.  There  are  indeed  a  few  verbal  inaccu- 
racies in  this  Introduction;  such  as  —  "The  trumpet's  breath 
bids  ruin  smile,"  which  perhaps  would  have  been  better  ex- 
pressed, "  The  trumpet's  breath  bids  havoc  on: "  but  the  whole 
is  finely  worked  up ;  and,  like  a  grand  overture,  prepares  the 
mind  of  the  reader  for  what  follows.  W.  L.  B. 

This  remark  of  my  friend  is  so  just,  that,  in  consequence  of  it, 
I  was  induced  to  print  the  Introduction  by  itself,  in  order  to  ren- 
der its  effect  more  striking.  It  hitherto  has  been  printed  with 
the  Narrative,  or  only  separated  by  a  line ;  and  consequently  has 
lost  much  of  its  exquisite  beauty. 

P.  6, 1.  32.       That   sweeps   the   wild  harp   with   a 
plaintive  sound. 

The  jEolian  harp;  see  Thomson  (Castle  of  Indolence,  40,  41). 
This  thought,  so  beautifully  expressed,  seems  not  only  suggested 
by  the  ^Eolian  harp,  but  by  the  hollow  sound  of  a  southerly 
•wind ;  the  dread  of  seamen  in  many  climates,  especially  in  the 
British  Channel,  as  it  is  always  attended  with  rain,  and  great 
obscurity,  which  increases  with  the  storm,  and  renders  the  coast 
of  Ireland,  England,  and  South  Wales,  a  dangerous  lee-shore. 
On  land,  the  peasants  call  it  a  high  wind,  i.  e.  one  that  sounds 
hollow  and  high.  Seamen  know  its  knell ;  and  a  shift  of  wind 
may  be  expected  to  follow  from  the  west,  or  N.  W.  which  blows 
low,  being  a  counter  current  of  air,  furious  in  the  extreme ;  and 
this  causes  the  hollow  sound  before  the  gale  is  felt.  N.  P. 

The  learned  reader  may  wish  to  be  reminded  of  a  curions  pas- 
sage in  Hoffman's  Lexicon  Universale,  published  upwards  of  150 
years  ago,  relative  to  the  ^Eolian  harp ;  it  is  cited  in  the  Gentle- 


132  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 

man's  Magazine,  (vol.  xxiv.  p.  174,)  and  the  following  lines  are 
added: — 

"  Salve,  quoe  fingis  proprio  modulamine  carmen, 
Salve,  Memnoniam  vox  imitata  lyram ! 

Dulce,  0 !  divinumque  sonas  sine  pollicis  ictu, 
Dives  naturae  simplicis,  artis  inops ! 

Talia,  quse  incultse  dant  mellea  labra  puellaj, 
Talia  sunt  faciles,  qua;  modulantur  aves !  " 

P.  6, 1.  41.    Ah!  will  they  leave,  &c. 

An  idea  somewhat  similar  occurs  in  Ariosto  (C.  46,  stanza  17) 
on  the  subject  of  the  piscatorial  poesy  of  Sannazaro:  — 

"  Jacopo  Sannazar  che  alle  Camene 
Lasciar  fa  i  monti  ed  abitar  le  arene." 

F.  D. 

P.  7,  1.  52.     A  ship-boy  on  the  high  and  giddy  mast! 

The  passage  in  Shakspeare's  Henry  the  Fourth,  act  the  third, 
•whence  this  line  is  taken,  is  always  deeply  impressed  on  a  sea- 
man's mind: — 

"  Wilt  thou,  upon  the  high  and  giddy  mast, 
Seal  up  the  ship-boy's  eyes,  and  rock  his  brains, 
In  cradle  of  the  rude  imperious  surge ; 
And  in  the  visitation  of  the  winds, 
Who  take  the  ruffian  billows  by  the  top 
Curling  their  monstrous  heads,  and  hanging  them 
With  deaf 'ning  clamours  in  the  slippery  shrouds, 
That  with  the  burly,  death  itself  awakes? 
Canst  thou,  0  partial  sleep,  give  thy  repose 
To  the  wet  sea-boy  in  an  hour  so  eide ; 
And,  in  the  calmest  and  the  stillest  night, 
With  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot, 
Deny  it  to  a  king?  then  happy  low!  lie  down, 
Uneasy  lies  the  head,  that  wears  a  crown." 


TO    THE   INTRODUCTION.  133 

P.  8, 1.  72.      Till  o'er  her  crew  distress  and  death 
prevail. 

In  the  eleven  lines  that  succeed,  I  have  followed  the  second 
edition :  in  the  third,  the  author  very  inadvertently  introduced 
the  following  — 

"  Where'er  he  wander'd,  thus  vindictive  fate 
Pursued  his  weary  steps  with  lasting  hate : 
Eoused  by  her  mandate,  storms  of  black  array 
Winter' d  the  morn  of  life's  advancing  day; 
Eel  ax' d  the  sinews  of  the  living  lyre, 
And  quench' d' the  kindling  spark  of  vital  fire: 
Thus  while  forgotten,  or  unknown,  he  woos, 
What  hope  to  win  the  coy  reluctant  Muse  ?  " 

These  lines  strongly  savour  of  fatalism,  and  are  unworthy  of  a 
British  mariner.  The  minds  of  our  mariners,  i  speak  from  ex- 
perience, with  very  few  exceptions,  always  display  a  high  sense 
of  Christianity,  and  a  belief  in  an  over-ruling  Providence:  a 
truth  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  support,  throughout  the 
whole  of  a  publication,  which  the  public  has  honoured  with 
attention,  entitled  Sermons  on  the  Character  and  Professional 
Duties  of  Seamen.  When  Falconer  published  the  third  edition, 
his  temper  was  soured  by  disappointment ;  and,  in  this  instance, 
he  forgot  the  principles  of  a  Christian  Mariner. 

P.  8,  1.  83.      And  lo!    the  power  that  wakes   the 
eventful  song  ! 

I  had  preferred  the  following  text,  as  given  in  the  first  and 
second  editions;  but,  in  deference  to  a  friend,  whose  poetic  taste 
has  been  long  approved,  I  followed  the  third  edition :  although 
the  repetition  of  light,  as  a  rhyme,  in  the  fourth,  and  thirteenth 
line,  has  certainly  a  bad  effect.  As  Mr.  Bowles  also  observes, 
"  the  epithet  propitious  is  too  tame,  it  should  have  been  instant 
light."  The  passage  stood  thus  originally  — 


134  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATION'S 

"  Thee  Memory !  too,  the  tragic  tale  implores, 
Arise!  approach!  unlock  thy  treasured  stores !"  — 

"  She  comes  coufest,  auspicious  to  the  sight, 
O'er  all  my  soul  diffusing  sacred  light, 
Serenely  mild  her  look;  around  her  head 
Refulgent  wreaths  of  azure  glory  spread. 
Her  radiant  wings  like  Iris'  flaming  bow, 
With  various  hues  in  rich  profusion  glow ; 
With  these,  along  the  immensity  of  space, 
She  scours  the  rapid,  intellectual  race;"  &c. 

P.  9, 1.  100.     And  hoary  time  from  her  fresh  youth 
receives. 

The  classic  ideas  of  our  unfortunate  mariner  in  many  instances 
resemble  those  of  the  Italian  poets:  thus  Tasso,  when  speaking 
of  memory,  exclaims  (C.  1,  st.  36):  — 

"  Mente  degli  anni  e  dell'  oblio  nemica, 
Delle  cose  custode,  e  dispensiera."  F.  D. 

P.  9,  1.  113.      Full  on  my  soul  the  dreadful  scene 
display. 

This  and  the  following  line  were  unaccountably  omitted  in  the 
third  edition. 


CANTO  I. 
P.  13,  1.  1. 

A  ship  from  Egypt  o'er  the  deep  impett'd 
By  guiding  winds,  her  course  for  Venice  held. 
Falconer  begins  his  narrative  with  all  the  simplicity  of  the 


TO    CANTO    I.  135 

great  masters,  and  seems  to  have  had  in  view  the  opening  of  the 
Mneid :  — 

Trojse  qui  primus  ab  oris 

Italiam,  fato  profugus,  Lavinaque  venit 

Littora : 

I  have  followed  in  the  first  four  lines,  the  third  edition ;  in  the 
second  it  was  thus  expressed :  — 

"  A  ship  from  Egypt,  o'er  the  watery  plain 
Design'd  her  course  to  Adria's  rich  domain; 
From  fair  Britannia's  isle  derived  her  name, 
And  thence  her  crew,  the  slaves  of  Fortune,  came." 

I  was  not  fond  of  styling  seamen  "  the  slaves  of  fortune !  " 

P.  14, 1.  17.     Thrice  had  the  sun,  &c. 

How  admirably,  yet  naturally,  is  the  whole  of  what  follows  in 
this,  and  the  next  page  contrived,  towards  engaging  the  attention 
of  the  reader,  and  leading  it  gradually  on  to  the  great  event  of 
the  poem !  I  have  in  part  preferred  the  text  of  the  second  edition. 

P.  14, 1.  21.  from  shore  to  shore, 

Unwearying  wafted  her  commercial  store. 

The  British  merchantmen,  at  the  time  this  poem  was  written, 
and  for  a  considerable  time  afterwards,  remained  trading  from 
port  to  port  in  the  Levant,  and  Mediterranean,  until  ordered  for 
England ;  when  they  generally  loaded  with  silks  at  Leghorn. 

The  length  of  time  to  which  these  voyages  were  extended, 
probably  arose  from  the  respect  paid  to  the  British  flag,  and  the 
Mediterranean  pass.  Any  British  ship,  though  worn  and  crazy, 
sold  for  a  considerable  sum  to  the  Genoese,  or  other  neighbour- 
ing states,  if  the  pass  could  also  accompany  the  ship;  this  traffic 
at  last  caused  some  complaints,  and  is  now  impracticable.  The 
pass  must  be  returned  to  the  lords  of  the  Admiralty. 


136  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

Mr.  Eton,  in  his  Survey  of  the  Turkish  Empire,  treats  at  large, 
On  the  state  of  the  British  trade  to  the  Levant  (page  448,  3d 
edit.)  and  assigns  four  causes  for  its  gradual  decline.  1.  The 
rivalship  of  other  European  nations.  2.  The  diminution  of  the 
consumption  of  our  manufactures  in  Turkey,  by  the  impover- 
ished state  of  the  country.  3.  Some  branches  of  trade  being  got 
into  other  channels.  4.  The  monopoly  of  the  Levant  Company 
in  London. 

P.  15,  1.  51.     Canclia:   The  haven  enter,  &c. 

The  harbour  of  Candia,  though'naturally  a  fine  basin,  in  which 
ships  were  securely  sheltered  from  every  wind,  is  described  by 
Tournefort,  in  1718,  as  capable  of  receiving  nothing  but  boats. 
Ships  of  burden  keep  under  the  isle  of  Dia,  or  Standia,  to  the  N. 
E.  of  Candia;  and  consequently  that  was  the  anchorage  to  which 
Falconer  alludes.  All  merchant  vessels  freighted  by  the  Turks 
at  Candia  are  obliged  to  sail  almost  empty  to  the  ports  of  Dia, 
•whither  their  cargoes  are  conveyed  in  boats.  The  French  mer- 
chants have  in  consequence  taken  up  their  residence  at  Canea ; 
but  even  there  the  harbour  will  only  receive  ships  of  200  tons  bur- 
den, and  its  mouth  is  exposed  to  all  the  violence  of  the  north  winds ; 
its  bottom,  however,  is  good,  except  to  the  west  of  the  town, 
where  there  are  several  rocks  under  water  extremely  dangerous. 
The  harbour  of  Canea  might  be  enlarged  so  as  to  admit  the  larg- 
est frigates.  The  chief  revenue  of  Canea  consists  in  olive  oil. 
According  to  Tournefort,  the  island  of  Candia  in  the  year  1C99, 
yielded  300,000  measures  of  oil,  which  the  French  merchants 
purchased,  on  account  of  the  failure  of  oils  in  Provence. 

P.    15,   1.   54.     Marie  the  fell  track   of  desolating 
war. 

The  revolutions  of  this  celebrated  island  may  thus  be  briefly 
given.  It  received  the  name  of  Candia  from  the  Saracens  about 
the  year  808,  when  they  subdued  it,  after  being  repulsed  in  their 
attempts  on  the  islands  of  Sardinia  and  Corsica  by  the  maritime 


I 

TO    CANTO    I.  137 

counts  •whom  Charlemagne  appointed,  under  the  title  of  Comites 
ad  custodiendam  Oram  Maritimam  deputati.  This  island  was 
afterwards  annexed  to  the" Greek  empire,  either  under  Eomanus 
the  first  in  961,  or  as  others  think,  under  Xicephorus  Phocas  in  964. 
When  the  Emperor  Alexis  was  murdered,  and  Baldwin  was 
crowned,  Candia  passed,  in  1204,  from  Boniface  Marquis  of 
Montserrat  to  the  Venetians,  who  had  assisted  in  that  great 
revolution;  and  from  them  it  came  to  the  Turks  after  the 
memorable  war  which  lasted  nearly  thirty  years:  the  siege 
commenced  in  1646,  and  on  the  fourth  of  October,  1670,  the 
Grand  Vizier  entered  Candia ;  which  answers  to  what  Falconer 
afterwards  says  (page  27, 1.  351). 

"  Where  late  thrice  fifty  thousand  warriors  bled: 
Full  twice  twelve  summers  were  yon  towers  assail'd." 

The  Venetians  however  retained  three  fortresses  a  considera- 
ble time  afterwards  —  Sudse,  Grabusa,  and  Spina-Longsea.  Eng- 
lish merchant  vessels  resorted  to  Candia  about  the  year  1522 ; 
since  (according  to  Rymer's  Fcedera,  vol.  xiii.  page  766)  we  find 
that  Henry  VIII.  then  appointed  Censio  de  Balhazari  (resident 
on  the  island)  for  life,  governor,  master,  protector,  or  consul  of 
the  English  nation  there. 

P.  15,  1.  63.     Ah!  who  the  flight  of  ages  can  re- 
voke f 

This  idea  is  more  forcibly  expressed  by  Falconer  than  even  by 
Metastasio :  — 

"  L'eta  che  viene  e  fugge 
E  non  ritorna  piu' ."  F.  D. 

P.  16, 1.  74. 

These  eyes  have  seen  the  dull  reluctant  soil 
A  seventh  year  mock  the  weary  labourer's  toil. 

So  correct  is  Falconer  in  this  description  of  the  state  of  Can- 
dia, that  it  almost  is  word  for  word,  what  51.  Olivier  of  the 


138  NOTES    AXD    ILLUSTRATIONS 

National  Institute  has  lately  published:  "  Far  from  the  rod  of  the 
Turks,  and  under  the  shield  of  their  privileges,  the  Greeks  of  the 
islands  of  the  Archipelago,  assured  of  being  able  to  enjoy,  to  a 
certain  degree,  the  fruit  of  their  labours,  in  general  cultivate 
their  fields,  or  apply  themselves  to  some  industry  with  sufficient 
ardour  and  intelligence.  But  in  Crete,  exposed  incessantly  to 
see  their  crops  taken  away  from  them  by  the  Aga ;  to  be  stripped 
of  their  property  by  the  Pacha ;  to  be  insulted,  cudgelled,  and 
robbed  by  every  Janizary ;  the  cultivators  are  never  inclined  to 
snatch  from  the  earth,  by  an  Increase  of  labour,  a  produce  which 
they  would  see  pass  into  the  hands  of  those  whom  they  have  so 
much  reason  to  hate. 

"  The  fields  which  they  cultivate,  planted  by  their  ancestors 
when  a  civilized,  industrious,  and  trading  people  (the  Venetians) 
governed  the  island,  and  favoured  agriculture;  are  running  to 
waste  from  day  to  day:  the  olive  tree  perishes;  the  vine  disap- 
pears ;  the  soil  is  washed  away  by  the  rains ;  yet  these  unfortu- 
nate Greeks,  disheartened  as  they  are,  think  not  of  repairing  the 
damages  which  time  is  incessantly  occasioning  them.  There  is 
nothing  but  the  pressing  want  of  living  and  of  paying  the  taxes, 
that  can  induce  them  to  gather  their  olives,  sow  their  lands,  and 
give  their  attention  to  a  few  bees.''  Travels  in  tiie  Ottoman  Em- 
pire (vol.  ii.  p.  242). 

P.  16. 

This  intermixture  of  historical  reflection  is  very  judicious,  as 
it  relieves  the  uniformity  of  the  subject:  it  was  the  result  of  Fal- 
coner's natural  feelings,  but  it  exhibits  the  master-hand  of  the 
poet's  discernment.  W.  L.  B. 

P.  16, 1.86.  the  sun 

Through  the  bright  Virgin,  and  the  Scales  had  run. 

Virgo  is  that  constellation  of  the  zodiac  which  the  sun  enters 
about  the  21st  or  22d  of  August.  Libra,  the  Balance,  or  Scales, 


TO    CANTO    I.  139 

•was  so  named,  because  -when  the  sun  arrives  at  this  constellation, 
which  is  the  time  of  the  autumnal  equinox,  the  days  and  nights 
are  equal,  as  if  weighed  in  a  balance.  Falconer  with  great 
judgment  places  the  sun  in  Scorpio;  which  it  is  conjectured  was 
so  named,  since,  when  the  sun  arrives  at  this  constellation,  the 
heavy  gales,  storms,  and  various  maladies  of  autumn  commence. 
The  poet  accordingly  mentions  the  sickening  vapours,  and  ap- 
proaching storms,  which  then  prevailed. 

P.  17, 1.  99.     A  captive  fetter 'd  to  the  oar  of  gain. 

Falconer  here  appears  to  have  confused  his  characters:  nor 
could  I  by  any  reference  to  preceding  editions  correct  it.  Albert 
is  throughout  the  poem  styled  the  master  of  the  ship,  and,  in  the 
very  next  page,  is  represented  as 

the  father  of  his  crew, 

Brave,  liberal,  just ! 

Our  author  therefore  must  here  have  alluded  to  what  past  in  the 
sordid  mind  of  Palemon's  father,  whom  he  should  have  more 
correctly  styled  the  owner  of  the  ship.  The  third  edition  varies 
from  the  text  of  the  second,  which  I  have  followed,  yet  does  not 
in  the  least  remove  the  difficulty,  but,  on  the  contrary,  rather 
augments  it :  — 

"  True  to  his  trust,  when  sacred  honour  calls, 
No  brooding  storm  the  master's  soul  appalls : 
The  advancing  season  warns  him  to  the  main : 
A  captive  fetter' d  to  the  oar  of  gain." 

P.  17, 1.  114.      This  crowns  the  prosperous  villain 
with  applause. 

Falconer  throughout  too  much  displays  a  mind  that  has  been 
soured  by  adversity.  If  the  prosperous  villain  ever  seems  to  be 
crowned  with  applause  in  this  world,  such  applause  is  only 
deceitful  and  treacherous,  like  the  calm  which  precedes  a 


140  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 

storm.    Armstrong's  idea  of  the  ningic  power  of  gold  was  more 
correct :  — 

"  Riches  are  oft  by  guilt  or  baseness  earn'd, 
Or  dealt  by  chance  to  shield  a  lucky  nave, 
Or  throw  a  cruel  sunshine  on  a  fool." 


P.  17, 1.  118. 

In  this  instance,  as  in  many  others,  Falconer,  or  some  of  his 
friends,  weakened  in  the  third  edition,  the  beauty  and  correctness 
of  the  original,  viz. 

"  With  slaughter' d  victims  fills  the  weeping  plain, 
And  smooths  the  furrows  of  the  treacherous  main." 

A  plain,  however  bloody,  cannot  be  said  to  weep ;  nor  can  gold, 
however  powerful,  smooth  the  furrows  of  the  ocean. 


P.  18,  1.  125.      Aboard,  confest   the  father  of  his 
crew. 

The  third  edition,  in  which  many  beautiful  lines  are  added  to 
the  character  of  Albert,  reads  Abroad !  which  spoils  the  whole 
force  of  the  sentence.  There  is  also  a  considerable  portion  of 
single-heartedness  attached  to  the  word  aboard,  which,  perhaps, 
few  except  seamen  will  duly  appreciate ;  it  showed  that  Albert 
was  the  same  man  on  shore,  and  when  walking  his  quarter- 
deck. 

P.  18,  1.  128.     Him  science  taught! 

The  character,  and  general  information  of  the  captains,  or 
masters  of  our  merchantmen,  are  not  sufficiently  known :  what 
Falconer  here  says  of  Albert,  is  a  true  portrait  of  the  majority  of 
them.  I  need  not  look  far  among  this  class  of  men  to  find  the 
counterpart  of  Albert. 


TO    CAXTO    I.  141 

P.  19, 1.  154. 

Where'er  in  ambush  lurk  the  fatal  sands, 
They  claim  the  danger,  proud  of  skilful  bands. 

In  the  coal  trade,  the  course  of  the  numerous  vessels  to 
London,  lying  chiefly  through  difficult  and  dangerous  passages 
between  the  sands,  our  seamen,  who  are  employed  in  that  valu- 
able nursery,  are  trained  from  the  early  age  of  nine  or  ten  year?, 
to  heave  the  lead,  and  to  take  the  helm;  and  hence  their  supe- 
riority in  those  respects  over  seamen  who  have  only  been  on 
foreign  voyages.  It  was  in  this  school  that  the  circumnavigator 
Cooke  was  formed.  N.  P. 

P.  19, 1.  158.     O'er  bar  and  shelve. 

A  bar  is  known,  in  hydrography,  to  be  a  mass  of  earth,  or  sand, 
that  has  been  collected,  by  the  surge  of  the  sea,  at  the  entrance 
of  a  river,  or  haven,  so  as  to  render  navigation  difficult,  and  often 
dangerous.  A  shelf,  or  shelve,  so  called  from  the  Saxon  schylf, 
is  a  name  given  to  any  dangerous  shallows,  sand-banks,  or  rocks, 
lying  immediately  under  the  surface  of  the  water. 

FALCONER. 

P.  20, 1.  175.     While  tardy  justice  slumbers  o'er  her 
sword. 

Soon  after  Falconer  wrote,  this  grievance  was  considerably 
redressed :  in  the  year  1775,  and  during  the  month  of  April,  John 
Parry,  a  person  of  fortune,  was  executed  at  Shrewsbury,  for  hav- 
ing in  1773  plundered  the  wreck  of  the  ship  called  Charm- 
ing Nancy  on  the  coast  of  Anglesea.  Another  person  of  the 
name  of  Roberts  was  also  found  guilty  at  the  same  time  for  the 
like  offence :  they  moved  an  arrest  of  judgment,  and  their  case 
was  referred  to  the  Judges,  who  decided  against  them :  both 
received  sentence  at  the  Salop  assizes.  — ••  Even  a  few  months 
since,  some  inhabitants  of  Whitstable  in  Kent  were  brought  up 


142  NOTES    AXD    ILLUSTRATION'S 

to  London  on  information  that  great  quantities  of  goods  had  been 
found  in  their  possession,  saved  from  vessels  recently  wrecked : 
yet  so  common  was  this  practice,  and  so  universal  was  it  become 
in  the  first  commercial  country  in  the  world,  that  these  very 
people  were  much  surprised,  when  informed  they  had  no  right 
to  the  goods.  N.  P. 

To  the  above  note,  I  wish  to  add  some  beautiful  lines  that 
vrere  written  by  Mr.  Bowles  at  Bamborough  Castle.  This  very 
ancient  castle,  as  he  informs  us,  (which  had  been  the  property  of 
the  family  of  the  Forsters,  whose  heiress  married  Lord  Crewe, 
Bishop  of  Durham,)  is  now  appropriated  by  the  will  of  that  pious 
prelate,  among  other  benevolent  purposes,  to  the  noble  one  of 
ministering  instant  relief  to  such  shipwrecked  mariners  as  may 
happen  to  be  cast  on  that  dangerous  coast ;  for  whose  preserva- 
tion, and  that  of  their  vessels,  every  possible  assistance  is  con- 
trived, and  is  at  all  times  ready.  The  whole  estate  is  vested  in 
the  hands  of  trustees,  one  of  whom,  Dr.  Sharp,  Archdeacon  of 
Northumberland,  with  an  active  zeal,  well  suited  to  the  nature 
of  the  humane  institution,  makes  this  castle  his  chief  residence, 
attending  with  unwearied  diligence  to  the  proper  application  of 
the  charity. 

"  Ye  holy  tow'rs  that  shade  the  wave-worn  steep, 

Long  may  ye  rear  your  aged  brows  sublime, 

Though,  hurrying  silent  by,  relentless  time 
Assail  you,  and  the  winter  whirlwinds  sweep ! 

For  far  from  blazing  grandeur's  crowded  halls, 
Here  charity  hath  fix'd  her  chosen  seat, 
Oft  listening  tearful  when  the  wild  winds  beat, 

With  hollow  bodings  round  your  ancient  walls ; 
And  pity,  at  the  dark  and  stormy  hour 

Of  midnight,  when  the  moon  is  hid  on  high, 
Keeps  her  lone  watch  upon  the  topmjst  tower, 

And  turns  her  ear  to  each  expiring  cry ; 
Blest  if  her  aid  some  fainting  wretch  might  save, 

And  snatch  him  cold  and  speechless  from  the  wave." 


TO    CANTO   I.  143 

P.  20, 1.  192.     But  what  avails  it  to  record  a  name. 

How  very  beautiful  and  affecting  is  this  natural  transition ! 

W.  L.  B. 


P.  21, 1.  202-205. 

Most  exquisitely  touched !  Forlorn  of  heart  —  condemned  re- 
luctant to  the  faithless  sea  —  long  farewell  —  and  laurel  grove : 
—  every  epithet  has  its  full  force.  W.  L.  B. 

P.  22, 1.  226.     These,  chief  among  the  ship's  conduct- 
ing train. 

Conducting  train  is  not  a  happy  expression,  but  I  have  pre- 
ferred this  line  as  it  stood  in  the  second  edition,  to  what  was 
deemed  an  improvement  in  the  third :  — 

"  Such  were  the  pilots;  tutor' d  to  divine 
The  untravelTd  course  by  geometric  line." 

The  mates  of  a  merchant  vessel  cannot  be  styled  her  pilots ;  and 
it  is  an  error  which  Falconer,  otherwise  so  correct,  too  often 
makes:  there  was  therefore  no  occasion  to  augment  instances 
of  it. 

P.  22, 1.  246. 

Though  tremblingly  alive  to  nature's  laws, 
Yet  everjirm  to  honour's  sacred  cause. 

After  these  lines,  the  following  succeed  in  the  second  edi- 
tion :  — 

"  Thrice  happy  soil !  had  learning's  vital  ray 
Produced  its  pregnant  blossoms  to  the  day: 
But  all  the  abortive  beauties  of  his  mind 
A  sordid  father's  avarice  confined, 


144  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

And  nursed  alone  the  mercenary  art 

That  kills  the  springing  roses  of  the  heart  — 

But  he  indignant  saw  the  goldsn  chain 

In  servile  bonds  each  generous  thought  restrain:' 

His  virtue  still  appear'd,  though  wrapp'd  in  shade, 

As  stars  with  trembling  light  the  clouds  pervade." 

P.  25, 1.  321.     Recalled  to  memory  by  the  adjacent 
shore. 

This  line  is  most  happily  introduced:  at  once  recalling  the 
mind  to  the  situation  of  the  ship,  and  artfully  preparing  the 
reader  for  the  episode  of  Palemon's  history.  .  AV.  L.  B. 

P.  26, 1.  332.   A  sullen  languor  still  the  skies  opprest. 

How  clearly  is  every  circumstance  set  before  us  in  this  de- 
scription! W.  L.  B. 

P.  26, 1.  340. 

On  deck,  beneath  the  shading  canvas  spread, 
Rodmond  a  rueful  tale  of  wonders  read. 

The  character  of  Rodmond  is  here  admirably  preserved.  It 
can  never  be  sufficiently  lamented  that  the  crews  of  our  ships 
are  not  supplied  with  cheap  editions  of  such  books  as  Robinson 
Crusoe,  Sinbad's  Narrative,  Roderic  Random,  and  some  of  the 
most  interesting  voyages :  the  perusal  of  such  works  would  often 
tend  to  allay  the  ferment  of  an  irritated  and  harassed  mind. 
So  persuaded  was  I,  from  experience,  of  the  beneficial  effect 
likely  to  result  from  an  adoption  of  this  idea,  that  I  mentioned 
it  to  Lord  Spencer  when  he  presided  at  the  board:  by  whom  it 
was  approved. 

A  passage  occurs  in  Mickle's  translation  of  Camoens'  Lusiadas, 
which  resembles  the  above  description  by  Falconer.  (Ed.  8vo. 
vol.  ii.  p.  103.) 


TO    CANTO    I.  145 

"  The  weary  fleet  before  the  gentle  gale 
With  joyful  hope  display'd  the  steady  sail; 
Thro'  the  smooth  deep  they  plough'd  the  lengthening  way: 
Beneath  the  wave  the  purple  car  of  day 
To  sable  night  the  eastern  sky  resign' d, 
And  o'er  the  decks  cold  breathed  the  midnight  wind. 
All  but  the  watch  in  warm  pavilions  slept, 
The  second  watch  the  wonted  vigils  kept; 
Supine  their  limbs,  the  mast  supports  the  head, 
And  the  broad  yard-sail  o'er  their  shoulders  spread 
A  grateful  cover  from  the  chilly  gale, 
And  sleep's  soft  dews  their  heavy  eyes  assail: 
Languid,  against  the  languid  power  they  strive, 
And  sweet  discourse  preserves  their  thoughts  alive: 
When  Leonardo,  whose  enamour' d  thought 
In  every  dream  the  plighted  fair  one  sought, 
The  dews  of  sleep  what  better  to  remove 
Than  the  soft,  woful,  pleasing  tales  of  love  ? 
Ill  timed,  alas !  the  brave  Veloso  cries, 
The  tales  of  love  that  melt  the  heart  and  eyes ; 
The  dear  enchantments  of  the  fair  I  know, 
The  fearful  transport,  and  the  rapturous  woe: 
But  with  our  state  ill  suits  the  grief,  or  joy, 
Let  war,  let  gallant  war  our  thoughts  employ ! 
With  dangers  threaten' d,  let  the  tale  inspire 
The  scorn  of  danger,  and  the  hero's  fire  — 
His  mates  with  joy  the  brave  Veloso  hear, 
And  on  the  youth  the  speaker's  toil  confer: 
The  brave  Veloso  takes  the  word  with  joy, 
And  truth,  he  cries,  shall  these  slow  hours  decoy  — 
The  warlike  tale  adorns  our  nation's  fame; 
The  Twelve  of  England  give  the  noble  theme." 

10 


146  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  32, 1.  490. 

The  vessel  parted  on  the  falling  tide, 
Yet  time  one  sacred  hour  to  love  supplied. 

The  ship,  which  was  lying  at  her  moorings  in  the  river 
Thames,  is  said  to  part,  on  her  quitting  them. 

The  falling  tide,  or  tide  of  ebb,  is  thus  described  by  Dr.  Hut- 
ton  :  — "  The  sea  is  observed  to  flow  for  about  six  hours,  from 
south  towards  north;  the  sea  gradually  swelling;  so  that,  enter- 
ing the  mouths  of  rivers,  it  drives  back  the  river-waters  towards 
their  heads,  or  springs.  After  a  continual  flux  of  six  hours,  the 
sea  seems  to  rest  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour;  after  which  it 
begins  to  ebb,  or  retire  back  again,  from  north  to  south,  for  six 
hours  more;  in  which  time,  the  \vater  sinking,  the  rivers  resume 
their  natural  course.  Then,  after  a  seeming  pause  of  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  the  sea  again  begins  to  flow  as  before :  and  so  on  al- 
ternately." 

P.  32, 1.  500. 

The  lines  that  follow  are  exquisitely  conceived :  but  they  were 
also  beautiful,  though  inferior,  in  the  second  edition:  — 

"  0  all  ye  soft  perceptions,  that  impart 
Impetuous  rapture  to  the  fainting  heart ; 
In  life's  last  gloom  who  bid  the  enchanting  ray 
Of  joy,  voluptuous  agonies  convey!  " 

P.  35, 1.  579.     So   melts   the  surface  of  the  frozen 
stream. 

I  am  in  doubt  whether  this  idea  was  not  better^  expressed  in 
the  second  edition :  — 

"  So  feels  the  frozen  stream  at  noon  of  day 
Awhile  the  parting  sun's  enervate  ray." 


TO    CANTO    I.  147 

P.  36,  1.  588.     And  from  her  cheek  beguiled  the  fatt- 
ing tear. 

It  is  singular  that  Johnson  should  not  have  more  strong! y 
marked  iu  his  excellent  dictionary,  this  sense  of  the  verb  be- 
guile: thus  Shakspeare  in  Othello:  — 

"  And  often  did  beguile  me  of  my  tears." 

This  idea  was  not  so  elegantly  worded  in  the  second  edition,  but 
the  following  lines  were  added,  which  ought  not  afterwards  to 
have  been  omitted:  — 

"  So  the  reviving  sun  exhales  the  showers 
That  fall  alternate'on  the  evolving  flowers." 

The  whole  of  Palemon's  interesting  history  was  considerably 
embellished,  and  enlarged,  in  the  third  edition.  In  the  second, 
Palemon,  accompanied  by  his  sordid  father,  joins  the  ship  at 
Dover;  and  Anna  and  her  mother,  who  both  came  on  board 
whilst  the  vessel  remained  in  the  river  to  take  leave  of  Albert, 
are  thus  introduced:  — 

"  Fast  by  that  dome,  where  from  afflicting  fate 
The  veteran  sailor  finds  a  safe  retreat, 
The  boat  prepares  to  waft  them  to  the  shore ; 
They  part,  alas !  perhaps  to  meet  no  more : 
0  Muse !  in  silence  hide  the  mournful  scene ! 
Where  all  the  pangs  of  sympathy  convene." 

What  a  loss  has  this  asylum  experienced  by  the  recent  death  of 
its  treasurer ! 

P.  37, 1.  610.     Palemon's  bosom  felt  a  sweet  relief. 

The  four  lines  that  follow  are  not  in  the  third  edition,  where 
they  have  been  omitted  to  make  room  for  a  simile  5  of  which 
Falconer  was  too  fond :  — 

"  The  hapless  bird,  thus,  ravish'd  from  the  skies, 
Where  all  forlorn  his  loved  companion  flies, 


148  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

In  secret  long  bewails  his  cruel  fate, 
With  fond  remembrance  of  his  winged  mate; 
Till  grown  familiar  with  a  foreign  train, 
Composed  at  length,  his  sadly-warbling  strain 
In  sweet  oblivion  charms  the  sense  of  pain." 

This  simile,  as  Mr.  Bowles  observes,  is  new,  pathetic,  and  poeti- 
cal; but  yet,  its  application  to  Palemon  is  totally  false,  since  ho 
never  grew  familiar  with  a  foreign  train:  with  him, 

"  Hope  fed  the  wound,  and  absence  knew  no  cure." 


P.  37,  1.  616.      Compassion's  sacred  stream  impetu- 
ous rolls. 

Our  poet  here  employs  an  improper  epithet  to  mark  the  char- 
acter of  the  sacred  stream  of  compassion ;  and,  instead  of  impetu- 
ous, might  have  rather  used  unceasing,  or  untainted. 

P.  39,  1.  671.     Deep  midnight  now  involves  the  livid 
skies. 

A  passage  that  has  wonderful  accuracy  and  beauty.  The 
scene  begins  with  description,  picturesque  and  pleasing;  then  a 
general  effect  of  the  phantasms  of  sleep  is  spread  over  it;  it  then 
becomes  more  particular,  and  the  mind  is  roused  by  the  striking 
contrast  —  All  hands  unmoor!  Nothing  can  exceed  the  manner 
in  which  this  whole  scene  is  set  before  us:  the  weighing  of  the 
anchor,  and  the  appearance  of  the  vessel  as  she  glides  secure 
along  the  glassy  plain.  W.  L.  B. 

No  one  but  a  seaman  would  have  thought  of  the  epithet  livid, 
so  expressive  of  the  discoloured  sky,  of  thafdeep  black  and  blue 
which  pervades  its  concavity  at  sea,  previous  to  an  easterly  gale. 
The  waning  moon  was  thus  originally  introduced:  — 

"  The  pale-orb'd  moon,  diffusing  watery  rays, 
Gleam'd  o'er  protracted  clouds,  and  ambient  haze." 


TO    CANTO    I.  149 

During  the  time  that  I  passed  at  sea  with  my  ever-lamented 
friend  Admiral  Payne^I  was  frequently  induced  by  that  superior 
taste  for  poetry  which  he  possessed,  to  observe  the  variations  of 
the  sublime  scenery  with  which  we  were  surrounded.  The  view- 
by  moonlight  at  sea  is  strikingly  beautiful ;  and  the  dimness  of 
its  waning  orb  renders  the  different  parts  of  a  ship  more  grand 
and  terrific.  Thomson  well  described  it  (Summer,  1.  1686)  — 

"  A  faint  erroneous  ray, 
Glanced  from  the  imperfect  surfaces  of  things, 
Flings  half  an  image  on  the  straining  eye." 

I  remember  watching  this  effect  in  the  Impetueux  off  Brest, 
when  a  ray  of  the  moon's  feeble  light  played  undulating  from 
the  horizon  to  that  part  of  the  deck  on  which  I  stood.  A  variety 
of  gigantic  meteors  appeared  to  pass  upon  the  waves.  The 
moon  then  seemed  to  struggle  through  a  thick  fleecy  cloud, 
from  which  at  length  she  rapidly  emerged  with  fresh  lustre,  and 
gave  a  new  character  to  the  scene.  The  mid-watch  had  just 
commenced:  and  the  hoarse  voice  of  the  boatswain's  mates 
proclaimed  the  hour  of  night.  The  sound  of  the  ship's  bell  was 
long  heard  in  sullen  vibration ;  whilst  the  following  passages  from 
Hamlet  came  over  my  memory,  and  gave  to  the  whole  scene  an 
additional  effect:  — 

BERN.  'T is  now  struck  twelve!     Get  thee  to  bed,  Francisco. 
FRAN.  For  this  relief  much  thanks:  'tis  bitter  cold,  and  I  am 
sick  at  heart. 

MAR.  What!  has  this  thing  appeared  again  to-night? 
BERN.  I  have  seen  nothing. 

P.  40, 1.  698. 

The  windlass  is  a  large  cylindrical  piece  of  timber  used  in 
merchant  ships  to  heave  up  the  anchors:  it  is  furnished  with 
strong  iron  pauls  to  prevent  it  from  turning  back  by  the  efforts 
of  the  cable,  when  charged  with  the  weight  of  the  anchor,  or 
strained  by  the  violent  jerking  of  the  ship  in  a  tempestuous  sea. 
As  the  windlass  is  heaved  about  in  a  vertical  direction,  it  is  evi- 


150  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 

dent  that  the  effort  of  an  equal  number  of  men  acting  upon  it 
•will  be  much  more  powerful  than  on  the  capstan.  It  requires, 
however,  some  dexterity  and  address  to  manage  the  handspec,  or 
lever,  to  the  greatest  advantage ;  and  to  perform  this  the  sailors 
must  all  rise  at  once  upon  the  windlass,  and,  fixing  their  bars 
therein,  give  a  sudden  jerk  at  the  same  instant;  in  which  move- 
ment they  are  regulated  by  a  sort  of  song  pronounced  by  one  of 
the  number.  The  most  dexterous  managers  of  the  handspec  in 
heaving  at  the  windlass,  are  generally  supposed  to  be  the  colliers 
of  Northumberland;  and  of  all  European  mariners,  the  Dutch 
are  certainly  the  most  awkward,  and  sluggish,  in  this  manoeuvre. 

FALCONER. 


P.  41, 1.  710.     Levant  and  Thracian  gales. 
Or,  as  in  the  third  edition,  "From  east  to  north." 

P.  41, 1.  715.     The  stately  ship  they  tow. 

From  the  Saxon  teohan.  Towing  is  chiefly  used,  as  in  the 
present  instance,  when  a  ship  for  want  of  wind  is  forced  toward 
the  shore  by  the  swell  of  the  sea.  FALCONER. 

P.  41, 1.  724.  Tall  Ida's  height, 

Tremendous  rock!  emerges  on  the  sight ; 
North-east,  a  league,  the  Isle  of  Standia  bears, 
And  westward,  freschin's  woody  cape  appears. 

The  celebrated  Motlnt  Ida,  which  covers  almost  the  middle  of 
Candia,  is  thus  described  by  Tournefort,  (vol.  i.  p.  41).  "  Mount 
Ida  is  nothing  but  a  huge  overgrown,  ugh-,  sharp-raised,  bald- 
pated  eminence ;  not  the  least  shadow  of  a  landscape,  no  delight- 
ful grotto,  no  bubbling  spring,  nor  purling  rivulet  to  be  seen. 
Begging  Dionysius  Periegetes's  pardon,  as  likewise  his  commen- 
tator's the  Archbishop  of  Thessalonica,  the  praises  they  bestow- 
ed on  this  mountain  seem  to  be  strained,  or  at  least  are  now  past 


TO    CANTO   I.  151 

their  season.  Ida,  according  to  Helladius,  as  cited  in  the  Bib- 
lioth  of  Photius,  was  the  common  appellative  of  all  mountains, 
from  whence  a  great  extent  of  country  could  be  discovered: 
and  if  Sui  Jas  may  be  credited,  all  forests  that  afford  an  agreeable 
prospect,  were  called  Ide,  from  ISstv,  to  see.  —  The  Isle  of  Stan- 
dia,  or  rather  Dia,  has  been  already  mentioned  in  a  previous 
note,  as  being  situated  N.  E.  of  the  Port  of  Candia;  it  lies  at  the 
distance  of  about  four  leagues,  and  contains  three  harbours :  the 
two  easternmost  are  much  esteemed.  —  Cape  Freschin,  or 
Freschia,  is  the  easternmost  of  the  two  projecting  points  of  land 
on  the  northern  coast  of  Candia,  and  forms  a  mark  for  ships  com- 
ing to  an  anchor  in  the  road." 

P.  41, 1.  732. 

Now  swelling  stud-sails  on  each  side  extend, 
Then  stay-sails  sidelong  to  the  breeze  ascend. 

1.  Stud,  or  studding-sails,  called  by  the  French  Banettes  en 
etui,  are  light  sails,  which  are  extended  in  moderate  breezes 
beyond  the  skirts  of  the  principal  sails ;  where  they  appear  as 
wings  upon  the  yard-anus.  According  to  a  conjecture  of  one  of 
Falconer's  friends,  these  sails  seem  originally  to  have  been  called 
steadying  sails,  from  their  tendency  to  keep  the  ship  in  a  steady 
course,  as  also  from  the  Saxon  word  sted.  to  assist.  2.  Stay-sail; 
though  the  form  of  sails  is  so  extremely  different,  they  may  all 
be  divided  into  sails  which  have  either  three,  or  four  sides :  a 
stay-sail  comes  under  the  first  class,  and  receives  its  name  from 
a  large  strong  rope  on  which  it  is  hoisted,  called  a  stay ;  employ- 
ed to  support  the  mast,  by  being  extended  from  its  upper  end 
towards  the  fore  part  of  the  ship,  as  the  shrouds  (a  range  of  large 
ropes),  are  extended  to  the  right  and  left  of  the  mast,  and  behind 
it.  The  yards  of  a  ship  are  said  to  be  square,  when  they  hang 
across  the  ship,  at  right  angles  with  the  mast;  and  braced,  when 
they  form  greater  or  lesser  angles  with  the  ship's  length. 

FALCONER. 


152  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  42, 1.  740.      The  pilots   now  their   azimuth   at- 
tend. 

The  magnetical  azimuth,  a  term  which  astronomers  have  bor- 
rowed from  the  Arabians,  is  clearly  described  by  Johnson,  as 
being  the  apparent  distance  of  the  sun  from  the  north  or  south 
point  of  the  compass;  and  this  is  discovered,  by  observing  with 
an  azimuth  compass,  when  the  sun  is  ten  or  fifteen  degrees 
above  the  horizon. 

P.  42, 1.  759.      White  as  the  clouds  beneath  the  blaze 
of  noon. 

Before  the  art  of  coppering  ships'  bottoms  was  discovered, 
they  were  painted  white.  The  wales  are  the  strong  flanks  which 
extend  along  a  ship's  side,  at  different  heights,  throughout  her 
whole  length,  and  form  the  curves  by  which  a  vessel  appears 
light  and  graceful  on  the  water:  they  are  usually  distinguished 
into  the  main-wale,  and  the  channel-wale.  FALCONER. 

P.  46, 1.  841.      Deep-blushing  armors  all  the  tops 
invest. 

In  onr  largest  merchantmen,  the  tops,  or  platforms,  which  sur- 
round the  heads  of  the  lower  mast  (for  every  ship's  mast,  taken 
in  its  apparent  length,  consists  of  the  lower  mast,  the  top-mast, 
and  top-gallant  mast)  are  fenced  on  the  aft,  or  hinder  side,  by  a 
rail  of  about  three  feet  high,  stretching  across,  supported  by 
stanchions;  between  which  a  netting  is  usually  constructed,  the 
outside  of  which  was  formerly  covered  with  red  baize,  or  can- 
vas painted  red,  and  was  called  the  top-armor;  being  a  sort  of 
blind  against  the  enemy  for  the  men  who  were  there  stationed. 
This  name  is  now  nearly  lost,  and  the  netting  is  always  covered 
with  black  canvas. 


TO    CANTO    II.  153 


CANTO  H. 

P.  50, 1.  25. 

Rodmond  exulting  felt  the  auspicious  wind, 
And  by  a  mystic  charm  its  aim  confined. 

Falconer  in  these  lines  has  preserved  the  existence  of  a  very 
old  custom  among  seamen,  particularly  those  of  Norway,  Den- 
mni'k,  and  Sweden;  which  consisted  in  their  binding  a  rope, 
with  several  knots  tied  in  it,  around  the  main-mast:  this  they 
considered  as  an  infallible  spell  to  secure  the  continuance  of  a 
favourable  wind.  N.  P. 

P.  50, 1.  30. 

After  this  line,  the  third  edition  introduces  eight  lines, 
v/hich,  in  the  second,  follow  line  36,  Canto  i.  in  the  present 
edition. 

P.  50,  1.  33.  they  descry 

A  liquid  column  towering  shoot  on  high. 

All  that  follows  is  truly  grand,  and  much  superior  to  what 
Camoens  wrote  on  the  same  subject!  who  by  a  strange  want  of 
taste  for  poetical  propriety,  though  his  genius  was  undoubtedly 
of  the  first  order,  compared  the  appearance  of  the  swoln  enor- 
mous volume  of  the  water-spout,  to  a  leech  on  the  lips  of  a  cow! 
I  congratulate  the  public  that  some  of  the  smaller,  yet  truly  ex- 
quisite poems  of  this  original,  and  great  writer,  have  been  so 
faithfully,  and  so  elegantly  rendered  into  English  by  Lord  Strang- 
ford.  It  is  to  be  wished  that  Camoens'  master-poem,  the 
Lusiadas,  might  be  undertaken  by  one  so  capable  of  expressing 
its  beauties  in  English.  W.  L.  B. 


154  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  50,  1.  41. 

In  spiral  motion  first,  as  seamen  deem, 

Swells,  when  the  raging  whirlwind  sweeps  the  stream. 

Notwithstanding  the  different  accounts  that  have  been  pub- 
lished respecting  this  extraordinary  meteor,  some  philosophers 
still  entertain  a  doubt,  whether  the  water  in  the  first  instance 
ascends,  or  descends.  Falconer,  like  all  the  seamen  I  have  ever 
met  with,  favours  the  first  idea.  The  same  opinion  was  also  sup- 
ported by  Dr.  Forster  in  his  Voyage  round  the  World,  (vol.  i.  p. 
191).  "  The  water,"  he  says,  "  in  a  space  of  fifty  or  sixty  fath- 
oms, moved  towards  the  centre;  and  there  rising  into  vapour,  by 
the  force  of  the  whirling  motion  ascended  in  a  spiral  form  toward 
the  clouds.  According  to  the  opinion  of  Signer  Beccaria,  water- 
spouts have  an  electrical  origin,  and  as  a  remarkable  proof  of  this, 
they  have  been  dispersed  by  presenting  to  them  sharp-pointed 
knives,  or  swords.  —  Their  form  is  that  of  a  speaking-trumpet, 
with  the  wider  end  in  the  clouds;  and  their  first  appearance  is 
in  the  semblance  of  a  deep  cloud,  the  upper  part  of  which  is 
white,  and  the  lower  black;  they  are  generally  seen  in  calm 
weather.  The  subject  of  water-spouts,  and  the  ascent  or  descent 
of  the  water  in  the  first  instance,  is  discussed  by  Mr.  Oliver,  and 
Dr.  Perkins,  in  the  second  volume  of  the  American  Philosophi- 
cal Transactions:  Dr.  Perkins  supports  the  latter  idea,  and 
dwells  on  Mr.  Stuart's  account  of  water-spouts,  which  also  tends 
to  support  the  theory  of  descent:  Mr.  Stuart's  figures  were 
drawn  with  the  appearance  of  a  bush  round  their  basp.  Dr. 
Lindsay  also,  in  several  letters  which  he  published  in  the  Gentle- 
man's Magazine  (vols.  li.  liii.  lv.),  endeavours  to  establish  the 
same  theory.  Some  valuable  remarks  on  this  subject  have  ap- 
peared from  Professor  Wilcke  of  Upsal. 

P.  52, 1.  83.      What  radiant  changes  strike  the  aston- 
ish'd  sight. 

Falconer  feels  all  the  enthusiasm  of  the  ancient  poets  in  his 
description  of  their  sacred  fish,  whom  Ovid  made  the  preserver 


TO    CAXTO    II.  155 

of  his  Arion.  (Fasti,  lib.  xi.  113.) —  Our  naturalists  now  divide 
this  genus  into  three  species :  the  dolphin,  the  porpoise,  and  the 
grampus.  The  beauty  of  the  dying  dolphin  even  surpasses  Fal- 
coner's account  of  it.  In  the  above  line  there  is  a  striking  simi- 
larity to  an  expression  in  a  late  Cambridge  Tripos  on  Fishing, 
by  a  gentleman  of  Trinity  College :  speaking  of  the  trout,  when 
taken  out  of  the  water,  he  adds  —  "  et  leti  variabilis  umbra."  — 
The  appearance  of  the  dolphin  in  this  part  of  the  poem  has  addi- 
tional beauty,  as  the  sure  sign  of  an  approaching  gale. 

P.  53, 1.  109. 

Across  her  stem  the  parting  waters  run, 
As  clouds,  by  tempests  icafted,  pass  the  sun. 

There  is  peculiar  beauty  in  these  lines,  which  perhaps  none 
but  a  seaman  will  feel  the  full  force  of;  and  it  is  for  want  of  this, 
that  hardly  any  painter,  who  has  not  been  himself  at  sea,  can 
make  his  ships  look  alive,  as  sailors  term  it,  upon  the  waves. 
The  outspreading  of  the  salt  foam  of  these  parting  waters,  gives 
great  variety  and  life  to  marine  scenery,  and  adds  much  to  the 
correctness  of  any  design.  A  ship  not  only  throws  up  the  salt 
foam  with  her  keel  ahead,  but  flings  it  out  boldly  at  her  sides, 
and  leaves  the  striated  sea  covered  with  it  to  a  considerable  dis- 
tance.—  And  now  I  am  upon  this  subject  let  me  observe,  that 
nothing  can  look  more  forced,  or  unnatural  in  a  marine  drawing, 
than  the  introduction  of  floating  barrel.?,  or  a  log  of  wood,  on 
which  artists  are  often  accustomed  to  write  their  names ;  but  the 
various  kinds  of  gull,  Mother  Carey's  Chicken,  and  other  aquatic 
birds,  may  be  introduced  with  considerable  effect. 

P.  53, 1.  113.     And  while   aloof  from  Retimo   she 
steers  — 

An  account  of  this  city,  with  a  beautiful  view  of  it,  is  given 
by  Tournefort  in  his  Voyage  to  the  Levant — (vol.  i.  p.  28).  It 
is  the  third  place  in  the  island,  and  is  governed  by  a  bashaw 


15G  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

under  the  viceroy  of  Canea.  Retimo  extends  along  the  haven, 
the  shore  of  which  is  covered  with  gardens:  the  citadel,  that  was 
built  for  its  security,  stands  on  a  sharp  rock  stretching  into  the 
sea.  Ships  of  war  were  at  one  time  laid  up  in  ordinary  below 
the  citadel,  but  at  present  there  is  scarcely  depth  enough  for 
small  craft.  Retimo  is  the  Rhithymna  of  Ptolemy.  — Malacha's 
Foreland,  Cabo  Maleca,  or  Cape  Melier,  lies  twelve  miles  N.  E. 
of  Canea;  the  town  and  island  of  La  Suda  are  situated  beneath 
this  cape. 

P.  54,  1.  127.     But  see!  in  confluence  borne  before 
the  blast: 

I  do  think  that  neither  Virgil,  nor  any  poet,  ancient  or  modern, 
has  ever  introduced  the  description  of  a  storm,  or  described  it 
BO  clearly,  faithfully,  and  poetically,  as  Falconer  has  done  in  the 
following  lines.  W.  L.  B. 

The  gradual  rising  of  a  gale  of  wind,  (the  term  by  which  sea- 
men denote  a  storm,  which  is  entirely  banished  from  our  naval 
vocabulary,)  has  much  of  the  sublime.  The  preceding 
calm,  which  Falconer  has  accurately  noticed,  is  treacherous 
and  alarming:  a  watery  sun-set  often  proclaims  what  may  be 
expected;  and  from  that  moment  the  violence  of  the  gale  gradu- 
ally steals  upon  the  mariner:  until  at  length  —  it  comes  resist- 
less!—  If  not  attended  with  rain,  a  heavy  sea  is  soon  formed; 
like  an  immense  ridge,  it  slowly  moves  along  in  dreadful 
grandeur;  and,  rising  as  it  were  from  the  abyss,  threatens 
instant  destruction,  as  the  magnitude  of  the  immense  billows 
is  increased  by  their  approach  to  the  ship :  when  suddenly  the 
nearest  sinks  beneath  her  keel  —  whilst  the  ship  falling  into  a 
trough  of  the  sea  seems  almost  thrown  on  her  beam  ends:  as 
the  ship  rights,  the  billow  rushes  from  under  her  with  incredible" 
force  and  rapidity,  and  with  its  curling  and  extended  ridge 
covers  the  adjacent  ocean  with  foam. 

In  the  second  edition,  these  lines  were  differently  expressed:  I 
did  not  know  to  which  a  preference  could  be  given,  and  there- 
fore followed  the  third  edition  — 


TO    CANTO    II.  157 

"  But  see !  in  confluence  borne  before  the  blast, 
A  rolling  dusk  of  clouds  the  moon  o'ercast 
In  dreadful  length  diffused ;  the  winds  arise, 
And  swift  the  scud  in  dark  succession  flies." 

The  scud  is  a  name  given  by  seamen  to  the  lowest  and  light- 
est clouds,  which  are  swiftly  driven  along  the  atmosphere  by  the 
winds. 

P.  54, 1.  132.     Low  in  the  wave  the  leeward  cannon 
lie. 

"When  the  wind  crosses  a  ship's  course  either  directly,  or 
obliquely,  that  side  of  the  ship,  upon  which  it  acts,  is  termed  the 
weather  side;  and  the  opposite  one,  which  is  then  pressed 
downwards,  is  termed  the  lee  side;  all  en  one  side  of  her  is 
accordingly  called  to  windward,  and  all  on  the  opposite  side  to 
leeward:  hence  also  are  derived  the  lee  cannon,  the  lee  braces, 
weather  braces,  &c.  The  same  term  is  used  by  Milton, 

"  The  pilot  of  some  small  night-founded  skiff, 
With  fixed  anchor, 
Moors  by  his  side  under  the  lee."  FALCONER. 

P.  54, 1.  134.         Topsails,  reefs,  Hocks. 

It  may  be  necessary  to  some  of  my  readers  to  inform  them, 
that  topsails  are  large  square  sails,  of  the  second  magnitude, 
and  height;  as  the  courses  are  of  the  first  magnitude,  and  the 
lowest.  —  Reefs  are  certain  divisions  of  the  sail,  which  are  taken 
in,  or  let  out,  in  proportion  to  the  increase  or  diminution  of  the 
•wind.  Blocks  are  what  landsmen  would  rather  term  from  the 
French  word,  (Poulie)  pullies. 

P.  54,  1.  139.     More  distant  grew  receding  Candia's 
shore  : 

Falconer  with  great  judgment  still  keeps  his  eye  on  the  land- 


158  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

scape  of  the  surrounding  scenery;  varying  by  this  means  the 
uniformity  of  the  description,  and  giving  it  a  more  picturesque 
cast,  and  natural  effect.  W.  L.  B. 

P.  55,  1.  149,  &c.      Halyards  —  bow-lines  —  clue- 
lines  —  reef -tackles  —  earings. 

Halyards  are  those  ropes  by  which  sails  are  hoisted,  or 
lowered;  bow-lines  are  ropes  fastened  to  the  outer  edge  of 
square  sails  in  three  different  places,  that  the  windward  edge  of 
the  sail  may  be  bound  tight  forward  on  a  side  wind,  in  order  to 
keep  the  sail  from  shivering.  Clue-lines  are  fastened  to  the 
lower  corners  of  the  square  sails,  for  the  more  easy  furling  of 
them.  Reef-tackles  are  ropes  fastened,  to  the  edge  of  the  sail, 
just  beneath  the  lowest  reef";  and  being  brought  down  to  the 
deck  by  means  of  two  blocks,  are  used  to  facilitate  the  operation 
of  reefing.  Earings  are  small  ropes  employed  to  fasten  the  upper 
corners  of  the  principal  sails,  and  the  extremities  of  the  reefs, 
to  the  respective  yard-arms,  particularly  when  any  sail  is  to  be 
close  furled.  .  FALCONER. 

Pope  in  one  of  his  letters  speaks  very  contemptuously  of  what 
he  styles  the  tarpaulin  phrase :  how  wonderful  that  this  phrase, 
in  the  hands  of  such  a  master  as  Falconer,  should  have  been 
made  subservient  to  such  an  almost  magical  effect. 

W.  L.  B. 


P.  55,  1.  151.     The  shivering  sails  descend. 
A  most  striking  and  happy  expression. 

P.  55, 1.  164.     Brail  up  the  mizzen  quick. 

The  mizzen  is  a  large  sail  bent  to  the  mizzen  mast,  and  is 
commonly  reckoned  one  of  the  courses,  which  consist  of  the 
main-sail,  fore-sail,  and  mizzen.  As  the  word,  brails,  is  a  gen- 
eral name  given  to  all  the  ropes  which  are  employed  to  haul  up 
the  bottomsj  lower  corners,  and  skirts  of  the  great  sails ;  so  the 


TO    CAXTO   II.  159 

drawing  them  together,  for  'the  more  ready  operation  of  furling, 
is  called  brailing  them  up.  The  effect  which  the  operation  of 
trailing  up  the  mizzen  produces,  is  noticed  in  the  last  note  of 
this  canto. 


P.  55, 1.  165.     Man  the  clue-garnets,  let  the  main- 
sheet  fly ! 

Cine-garnets  are  the  same  to  the  main-sail  and  fore-sail,  which 
the  clue-lines  are  to  all  other  square-sails,  and  are  hauled  up 
•when  the  sail  is  to  be  furled,  or  brailed.  Sheets :  it  is  necessary 
in  this  place  to  remark,  that  the  sheets,  which  are  universally 
mistaken  by  our  English  poets  for  the  sails,  are  in  reality  the 
ropes  that  are  used  to  extend  the  clues,  or  lower  corners  of  the 
sails,  to  which  they  are  attached.  FALCONER. 

P.  55, 1.  166.     It  rends  in  thousand  shivering  shreds 
on  high  ! 

As  the  gale  rises,  Falconer's  description  keeps  pace  in  gran- 
deur. The  circumstances  are  so  rapidly,  and  yet  so  distinctly 
brought  before  us,  that  it  is  impossible  not  to  see,  to  hear,  to 
partake  the  anxiety;  and  to  become,  if  I  may  thus  express 
myself,  one  of  the  unfortunate  crew.  W.  L.  B. 

i 
P.  55, 1.  171.     Bear  up  the  helm  a-weather. 

The  reason  for  putting  the  helm  a-weather,  or  to  the  side  next 
the  wind,  is  to  make  the  ship  veer  before  it  when  it  blows  so 
hard  that  she  cannot  bear  her  side  to  it  any  longer.  Veering, 
or  wearing,  is  the  operation  by  which  a  ship,  in  changing  her 
course  from  one  board  to  the  other,  turns  her  stern  to  windward : 
the  French  term  is,  virer  vent  arriere.  FALCOXER. 

* 


160  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  56,  1.  176.     Spreads  a  broad  concave  to  the  sweep- 
ing gale. 

A  new  and  happy  image,  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  full  ex- 
panded sail.  W.  L.  B. 

The  playful  Titania  of  our  immortal  bard  describes  the  same 
effect,  though  not  with  equal  force :  — 

"  When  we  have  laugh'd  to  see  the  sails  conceive, 
And  grow  big-bellied  with  the  wanton  wind." 

(Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  act  ii.) 

One  of  the  finest  pictures  ever  painted  by  my  kind  friend 
Romncy  was  taken  from  this  passage. 

P.  56,  1.  178.     Tlmoneer. 

The  helmsman,  from  the  French  timonnier:  it  is  however  to 
be  lamented  that  our  poet  had  not  selected  some  more  familiar 
term  from  his  own  language. 

P.  56, 1.  187.     The  helm  to  starboard  moves  — 

In  the  third  edition  these  lines  have  been  altered  so  as  entirely 
to  destroy  their  beauty :  — 

"  The  helm  to  starboard  turns;  with  wings  inclined 
The  sidelong  canvas  clasps  the  faithless  wind." 

This  could  not  have  been  done  by  Falconer,  but  by  some  inju- 
dicious friend  who  was  not  a  seaman,  and  thought  by  this  means 
to  improve  the  elegance  of  the  poem.  I  have  often  thought  that 
Mallet,  who  employed  our  author  to  write  for  the  Critical 
Review,  introduced  this  and  other  similar  alterations  in  the 
Shipwreck. 

P.  56,  1.  190.      While  the  fore  stay-sail  balances  be- 
fore : 

Called  with  more  propriety  the  fore  top-mast  stay-sail :  it  is 
of  a  triangular  shape,  and  runs  upon  the  fore  top-mast  stay, 


TO    CANTO    II.  161 

over  the  bowsprit :  it  consequently  has  an  influence  on  the  fore 
part  of  the  ship,  as  the  mizzen  has  on  the  hinder  part;  and, 
when  thus  used  together*  they  may  be  said  to  balance  each 
other.  See  also  the  last  note  of  this  canto.  FALCONER. 


P.  56,  1.  192.     The  extended  tack  confined. 

The  main-sail,  and  fore-sail  of  a  ship,  are  furnished  with  a 
tack  on  each  side,  which  is  formed  of  a  thick  rope  tapering  to 
the  end,  having  a  knot  wrought  upon  the  largest  extremity,  by 
which  it  is  firmly  retained  in  the  clue  of  the  sail:  by  this  means 
the  tack  is  always  fastened  to  windward,  at  the  same  time  that 
the  sheet  extends  the  sail  to  leeward.  FALCONER. 


P.  56, 1.  195.  the  bunt-lines  gone! 

Bunt-lines  are  ropes  fastened  to  the  bottoms  of  the  square 
sails  to  draw  them  up  to  the  yards,  when  the  sails  are  brailed, 
or  furled.  FALCONER. 


P.  56, 1.  197.     The  extending  sheets  on  either  side 
are  mann'd: 

In  the  third  edition,  the  incautious  pen  of  some  fresh-water 
sailor  is  again  visible ;  which  the  reader  will  perceive  by  com- 
paring the  lines  as  they  stand  in  the  present  edition  with  the 
following:  — 

"  On  either  side  below  the  sheets  are  mann'd, 
Again  the  fluttering  sails  their  skirts  expand: 
Once  more  the  top-sails,  though  with  humbler  plume, 
Mounting  aloft,  their  ancient  post  resume ; 
Again  the  bow-lines,  and  the  yards  are  braced, 
And  all  the  entangled  cords  in  order  placed." 

The  word  cord  is  not  known  on  board  a  ship,  and  therefore 

could  not  have  been  used  by  Falconer.  —  A  yard  is  said  to  be 

braced,  when  it  is  turned  about  the  mast  horizontally,  either  to 

11 


162  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

the  right,  or  left ;  the  ropes  employed  in  this  service  are  called 
the  larboard  and  starboard  braces. 


P.  57, 1.  205-8.     Brails,  head-ropes,  rolands. 

Brails:  a  general  name  given  to  all  the  ropes  which  are  em- 
ployed to  haul  up,  or  brail  the  bottoms,  and  lower  corners  of  the 
great  sails.  A  rope  is  always  attached  to  the  edges  of  the  sails, 
to  strengthen,  and  prevent  them  from  rending:  those  parts  of  it 
which  are  on  the  perpendicular  or  sloping  edges,  are  called 
leech  ropes,  that,  at  the  bottom,  the  foot  rope,  and  that  on  the 
top,  or  upper  edge,  the  head  rope.  Kohands,  or  rope  bands,  are 
small  pieces  of  rope,  of  a  sufficient  length  to  pass  two  or  three 
times  about  the  yards,  in  order  to  fix  to  them  the  upper  edges 
of  the  respective  great  sails:  the  robands  for  this  purpose  are 
passed  through  the  eyelet  holes  under  the  head-rope. 


P.  57, 1.  209. 

That  task  perform' d,  they  first  the  braces  slack, 
Then  to  the  chess-tree  drag  the  unwilling  tack. 
And,  while  the  lee  clue-garnet 's  lower'd  away, 
Taught  aft  the  sheet  they  tally,  and  belay. 

The  braces  are  here  slackened,  because  the  lee-brace  confining 
the  yard,  the  tack  could  not  come  down  until  the  braces  were 
cast  off.  The  chess-tree,  called  by  the  French  taquet  d'amure, 
consists  of  a  perpendicular  piece  of  wood,  fastened  with  iron 
bolts,  on  each  side  the  ship :  in  the  upper  part  of  the  chess-tree 
is  a  large  hole  through  which  the  tack  is  passed ;  and  when  the 
clue,  or  lower  corner,  of  the  sail  comes  down  to  it.  the  tack  is 
said  to  be  aboard.  —  The  two  last  lines* form  an  extraordinary 
instance  of  that  power,  which  our  author  possessed,  of  introcluc- 
irig  the  technical  terms  of  navigation  with  singular  effect  into 
poetry.  Taught,  the  roide  of  the  French,  and  dicht  of  the  Dutch 
sailors,  implies  the  state  of  being  extended,  or  stretched  out. 


TO    CANTO    II.  163 

Tally,  is  a  word  applied  to  the  operation  of  hauling  the  sheets 
aft,  or  toward  the  ship's  stern.  To  belay  is  to  fasten. 

P.  58,  1.  232.     Put  like  a  ruffian  on  his  quarry  flies. 

Shakspeare  uses  ruffian  as  a  verb :  — 

"  A  fuller  blast  ne'er  shook  our  battlements: 
If  it  hath  ruffian' d  so  upon  the  sea, 
What  ribs  of  oak,  when  mountains  melt  on  them, 
Can  hold  the  mortice  ?  "  OTHELLO. 

The  same  word  is  afterwards  used  by  our  author  as  an  adjective 
(page  74).  Quarry  is  a  term  taken  from  hawking,  and  signifies 
game  that  is  flown  at  by  a  hawk.  Waller  uses  it,  though  not  ex- 
actly in  the  same  sense  with  Falconer:  — 

"  They  their  guns  discharge : 
This  heard  some  ships  of  ours,  though  out  of  view, 
And  swift  as  eagles  to  the  quarry  flew." 

P.  58, 1.  240.      The  bounding  vessel  dances  on  the 
tide. 

The  whole  of  this,  and  the  preceding  paragraph,  were  added  in 
the  third  edition;  and,  with  the  exception  of  this  line,  are  worthy 
of  Falconer:  he  could  never  have  inserted  the  word  dances. 
The  situation  of  the  ship  is  justly  likened  to  that  of  a  war-horse; 
who  having  at  first  exulted,  on  "  smelling  the  battle  afar  off,  the 
noise  of  the  captains,  and  the  shouting,"  reels  amidst  the  subse- 
quent shock  of  the  combat :  had  Falconer  lived,  he  would  prob- 
ably have  written  in  a  subsequent  edition :  — 

"  The  bounding  vessel  labours  on  the  tide: " 

for  otherwise,  even  supposing  the  vessel  to  dance,  the  simile 
would  not  hold  good ;  as  the  horse  reeled,  in  like  manner  the  ship 
rolled,  or  rocked,  or  laboured. 


164  NOTES   AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  59, 1.  251. 

They  furl 'd  the  sails  and  pointed  to  the  wind 
The  yards,  by  rolling  tackles  then  confined. 
Or  as  in  the  second  edition, 

"  Around  the  sail  the  gaskets  they  convey'd, 
And  rolling  tackles  to  the  cap  belay'd." 

The  rolling  tackle  is  an  assemblage  of  blocks  or  pulleys,  through 
which  a  rope  is  passed,  xintil  it  becomes  four-fold,  in  order  to 
confine  the  yard  close  down  to  leeward  when  the  sail  is  furled, 
that  the  yard  may  not  gall  the  mast,  from  the  rolling  of  the  ship. 
Gaskets  are  platted  ropes  to  wrap  round  the  sails  when  furled. 

P.  59,  1.  257,  &c.  Top-gallant-yards,  travellers, 
back-stays,  top-ropes,  parrels,  lifts, 
topped,  booms. 

Top-gallant-yards,  which  are  the  highest  ones  in  a  ship,  are 
sent  down  at  the  approach  of  a  heavy  gale,  to  ease  the  mast- 
heads. Travellei's  are  iron  rings  furnished  with  a  piece  of  rope, 
one  end  of  which  encircles  the  ring  to  which  it  is  spliced;  they 
are  principally  intended  to  facilitate  the  hoisting  or  lowering  of 
the  top-gallant  yards ;  for  which  purpose  two  of  them  are  fixed 
on  each  backstay;  which  are  long  ropes  that  reach  on  each  side 
the  ship,  from  the  top-masts  (which  are  the  second  in  point  of 
height)  to  the  chains.  Top-ropes,  are  employed  to  sway  up,  or 
lower,  the  top-masts,  top-gallant-masts,  and  their  respective 
yards.  Parrels,  are  those  bands  of  rope,  by  which  the  yards  are 
fastened  to  the  masts,  so  as  to  slide  up  and  down  when  requisite; 
and  of  these  there  are  four  different  sorts.  Lifts,  are  ropes  which 
reach  from  each  mast-head  to  their  respective  yard-arms.  A 
yard  is  said  to  be  topped,  when  one  end  of  the  yard  is  raised 
higher  than  the  other,  in  order  to  lower  it  on  deck  by  means  of 
the  top-ropes.  Booms,  are  spare  masts,  or  yards,  which  are 
placed  in  store  on  deck,  between  the  main  and  fore-mast,  immedi- 


TO    CANTO    H.  165 

ately  to  supply  the  place  of  any  that  may  be  carried  away,  or 
injured,  by  stress  of  weather.  FALCOSEK. 

P.  60, 1.  279.     And  cheerless  night  o'er  heaven  her 
reign  extends. 

This  is  a  most  correct,  and  awful  description  of  a  sunset  pre- 
ceding a  storm,  or  rather  a  heavy  gale  of  wind,  and  was  some  years 
since  selected  by  Mr.  Pocock  as  the  subject  of  a  large  oil  paint- 
ing ;  in  which  this  artist,  with  a  bold  originality  of  genius,  repre- 
sented only  the  sea  and  sky.  No  vessel  whatever  was  intro- 
duced :  the  effect  was  admirable ;  and  may  be  recommended  to  the 
notice  of  such  persons  as  are  fond  of  marine  scenery.  The  spec- 
tator in  this  beautiful  picture  is  supposed  to  be  standing  in  a 
ship,  and  the  view  that  b'es  before  him  is  the  expanse  of  ocean 
rolling  in  all  its  grandeur,  without  any  object  to  intercept  the 
sight:  whilst  the  sickening  orb  of  the  setting  sun  is  enveloped 
in  the  crimson  scud  that  tinges  the  dusk  of  the  horizon. 

I  have  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  retracing  scenes,  that  remind 
me  of  my  lost  and  ever  to  be  lamented  friend,  Admiral  Payne ; 
and,  as  it  serves  to  illustrate  a  passage  in  the  poem,  I  trust  that 
such  remembrance  will  not  be  deemed  irrelevant  by  the  reader. 

We  were  cruising  off  Ushant,  in  the  Impetueux,  during  an  even- 
ing at  the  close  of  October,  and  the  dreary  coast  so  continually 
present  to  our  view,  created  a  painful  uniformity,  which  could 
only  be  relieved  by  observing  the  variations  of  the  expanse  that 
was  before  us.  —  The  sun  had  just  given  its  parting  rays,  and  the 
last  shades  of  day  lingered  on  the  distant  waves ;  when  a  sky 
most  sublime,  and  threatening,  attracted  all  our  attention,  and 
was  immediately  provided  against  by  the  vigilant  officers  of  the 
watch.  To  the  verge  of  the  horizon,  except  where  the  sun  had 
left  some  portion  of  its  departing  rays,  a  hard,  lowering,  blue 
firmament  presented  itself:  on  this  floated  light  yellow  clouds, 
tinged  with  various  hues  of  crimson,  the  never-failing  harbingers 
of  a  gale.  A  strong  vivid  tint  was  reflected  from  them,  on  the 
sails  and  rigging  of  the  ship,  which  rendered  the  scene  more 
dreadful.  The  very  calm  that  prevailed  was  portentous  —  the 


166  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

sea  bird  shrieked  as  it  passed !  As  the  tempest  gradually  ap- 
proached, and  the  winds  issued  from  the  treasuries  of  God,  the 
thick  darkness  of  an  autumnal  night  closed  the  whole  in  horrid 
uncertainty :  — 

"  It  was  a  dismal  and  a  fearful  night ; 
And  on  my  soul  hung  the  dull  weight 
Of  some  intolerable  fate ! "  COWLEY. 


P.  60, 1.  288.      But  here  the  doubtful  officers  dispute. 

This  is  particulary  mentioned,  not  because  there  was,  or  could 
be,  any  dispute  at  such  a  time  between  a  master  of  a  ship,  and 
his  chief  mate,  as  the  former  can  always  command  the  latter; 
but  to  expose  the  obstinacy  of  a  number  of  our  veteran  officers, 
who  would  rather  risk  any  thing  than  forego  their  ancient  rules, 
although  many  of  them  are  in  the  highest  degree  equally  absurd 
and  dangerous.  It  is  to  the  wonderful  sagacity  of  these  philoso- 
phers, that  we  owe  the  sea  maxims  of  avoiding  to  whistle  in  a 
storm,  because  it  will  increase  the  wind;  of  whistling  on  the 
wind  in  a  calm ;  of  nailing  horse-shoes  on  the  mast  to  prevent 
the  power  of  witches ;  of  nailing  a  fair  wind  to  the  starboard  cat- 
head, &c.  FALCONER. 


P.  61, 1.  306.     The  tack's  eased  off! 

In  these  lines  I  have  followed  the  second  edition ;  in  the  third 
they  are  somewhat  different :  — 

"  The  master  said;  obedient  to  command 
To  raise  the  tack  the  ready  sailors  stand : 
Gradual  it  loosens,  while  the  involving  clue, 
Swell'd  by  the  wind,  aloft  unrufflhig  flew." 

It  has  been  already  remarked,  that  the  tack  is  always  fastened 
to  windward;  consequently,  as  soon  as  it  is  cast  loose,  and  the 
clue-garnet  is  hauled  up,  the  weather  clue  of  the  sail  immediately 
mounts  to  the  yard;  and  this  operation  must  be  carefully  per- 


TO    CANTO    II.  167 

formed  in  a  storm,  to  prevent  the  sail  from  splitting,  or  being 
torn  to  pieces  by  shivering.  FALCONER. 

P.  61, 1.  308.     The  sheet  and  weather-brace  they  now 
stand  by. 

To  stand  by  any  rope,  is,  in  the  language  of  seamen,  to  take 
hold  of  it.  Whenever  the  sheet  is  cast  off,  it  is  necessary  to  pull 
in  the  weather-brace,  to  prevent  the  violent  shaking  of  the  sail. 

P.  61,  1.  311.     Loud  rattling,  jarring,  through   the 
blocks  it  flies  ! 

One  of  the  finest,  and  most  descriptive  lines  in  the  whole 
poem;  the  beauty  of  which  was  entirely  destroyed  in  the  third, 
and  all  the  subsequent  editions :  — 

"  Thus  all  prepared,  Let  go  the  sheet !  he  cries ; 
Impetuous  round  the  ringing  wheels  it  flies." 

P.  61, 1.  314.     By  spilling  lines  embraced — 

The  spilling  lines,  which  are  only  used  on  particular  occasions 
in  tempestuous  weather,  are  employed  to  draw  together,  and 
confine  the  belly  of  the  sail,  when  inflated  by  the  wind  over  the 
yard.  FALCONER. 

P.  61, 1.  319.      Below,   the  down-haul  tackle   others 
ply. 

The  violence  of  the  gale  forcing  the  yard  much  out,  it  could 
not  easily  have  been  lowered  so  as  to  reef  the  sail,  without  the 
application  of  a  tackle,  consisting  of  an  assemblage  of  pulleys,  to 
haul  it  down  on  the  mast:  this  is  afterwards  converted  into 
rolling  tackle,  which  has  been  already  described  in  a  note,  p.  164. 

FALCONER. 


168  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  61,  1.  320. 

Jears,  lifts,  and  brails,  a  seaman  each  attends, 
And  down  the  mast  its  mighty  yard  descends. 

Jears,  or  geers,  answer  the  same  purpose  to  the  main-sail,  fore- 
sail, and  mizzen,  as  haliards  do  to  all  inferior  sails.  The  tye, 
a  sort  of  runner,  or  thick  rope,  is  the  upper  part  of  the  jears. 
The  size  of  the  main-yard,  when  it  is  gradually  lowered,  appears 
truly  tremendous  and  mighty,  as  our  poet  terms  it;  I  could 
never  behold  it  without  astonishment. 

The  following  account  of  the  length  of  the  yards  of  our  good 
old  ship  Impetueux,  will  enable  a  landsman,  after  proportionable 
deduction,  to  form  some  idea  of  the  yards  of  a  merchantman :  — 

Feet.  In. 

Main-yard .  98  9 

Top-sail-yard   .     • 69  5 

Top-gallant-yard 42  2 

Fore-yard 85  9 

Fore-top-sail-yard 67  1 

Fore-top-gallant-yard 37  2 

Mizzen-top-sail-yard 47  10 

Mizzen-top-gallant-yard 33  0 

Cross-jack-yard 66  0 

Sprit-sail-yard 64  2 

P.  61, 1.  324,  &c.      Reef -lines,   shrouds,   reef -hand, 
outer  and  inner  turns. 

Eeef-lines,  are  only  used  to  reef  the  main-sail  and  fore-sail. 
Shrouds,  so  called  from  the  Saxon  Scrud,  consisj  of  a  range  of 
thick  ropes  stretching  downwards  from  trie^  mast  heads,  to  the 
right  and  left  sides  of  a  ship,  in  order  to  support  the  masts,  and 
enable  them  to  carry  sail;  they  are  also  used  as  rope  ladders,  by 
which  seamen  ascend,  or  descend,  to  execute  whatever  is  wanting 
to  be  done  about  the  sails  and  rigging.  Reef-band,  consists  of  a 
piece  of  canvas  sewed  across  the  sail,  to  strengthen  it  in  the 


TO    CANTO    II.  169 

place  where  the  eyelet-holes  of  the  reefs  are  formed.  The  outer 
turns  of  the  earing  serve  to  extend  the  sail  along  its  yard ;  the 
inner  turns  are  employed'to  confine  its  head  rope  close  to  its  sur- 
face. FALCONER. 

P.  62, 1.  346.      A  sea,  up-surging  with* stupendous 
roll. 

A  sea  is  the  general  term  given  by  sailors  to  an  enormous  wave; 
and  hence,  when  such  a  wave  bursts  over  the  deck,  the  vessel  is 
said  to  have  shipped  a  sea.  FALCONER. 

It  is  impossible  to  peruse  the  dreadful  effects  of  this  event, 
without  acknowledging  the  wonderful  powers  of  our  poet:  I 
know  only  of  one  writer  who  has  thus  forcibly  described  the 
awful  horrors  of  a  watery  grave:  Mrs.  RadcliflPs  Address  to  the 
Winds  is  worthy  of  Falconer;  and  will  serve  to  impart  kindred 
sensations  to  the  reader's  mind:  — 

"  Viewless,  through  Heaven's  vast  vault  your  course  ye  steer, 
Unknown  from  whence  ye  come,  or  whither  go ! 
Mysterious  powers !  I  hear  ye  murmur  low, 
Till  swells  your  loud  gust  on  my  startled  ear, 
And  awful,  seems  to  say  —  some  God  is  near! 
I  love  to  list  your  midnight  voices  float 
In  the  dread  storm  that  o'er  the  ocean  rolls; 
And  while  their  charm  the  angry  wave  controls, 
Mix  with  its  sullen  roar,  and  sink  remote : 
Then,  rising  in  the  pause,  a  sweeter  note, 
The  dirge  of  spirits,  who  your  deeds  bewail, 
A  sweeter  note  oft  swells  while  sleeps  the  gale  — 
But  soon,  ye  sightless  powers,  your  rest  is  o'er! 
Solemn,  and  slow  ye  rise  upon  the  air, 
Speak  in  the  shrouds,  and  bid  the  sea  boy  fear; 
And  the  faint  warbled  dirge  is  heard  no  more. 

"  Oh,  then  I  deprecate  your  awful  reign ! 
The  loud  lament  yet  bear  not  on  your  breath; 
Bear  not  the  crash  of  bark  far  on  the  main, 


170  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

Bear  not  the  cry  of  men  who  cry  in  vain, 

The  crew's  dead  chorus  sinking  into  death! 

Oh  give  not  these,  ye  powers !  —  I  ask  alone, 

As  rapt  I  climb  these  dark  romantic  steeps, 

The  elemental  war !  the  billows  moan ! 

I  ask  the  still,  sweet  tear  that  list'ning  fancy  weeps." 

P.  63, 1.  376. 

Too  late  to  weather  now  Morea's  land, 
And  drifting  fast  on  Athens'  rocky  strand. 

To  weather  a  shore  is  to  pass  to  windward  of  it,  which  at  this 
tune  was  prevented  by  the  violence  of  the  gale.  Drift  is  that 
motion  and  direction,  by  which  a  vessel  is  forced  to  leeward  side- 
ways, when  she  is  unable  any  longer  to  carry  sail ;  or,  at  least,  is 
restrained  to  such  a  portion  of  sail,  as  may  be  necessary  to  keep 
her  sufficiently  inclined  to  one  side,  that  she  may  not  be  dis- 
masted by  her  violent  labouring  produced  by  the  turbulence  of 
the  sea.  FALCONER. 

P.  64, 1.  383.      And  try  beneath  it    sidelong  in  the 
sea. 

To  try,  is  to  lay  the  ship  with  her  side  nearly  in  the  direction 
of  the  wind  and  sea,  with  her  head  somewhat  inclined  to  wind- 
ward; the  helm  being  fastened  close  to  the  lee  side,  or  in  the 
sea  language,  hard  a-lee,  to  retain  her  in  that  position.  See  a 
further  illustration  in  the  last  note  of  this  canto.  FALCONER. 

P.  64, 1.  385.     Topping-lift ;  knittle,  throt. 

A  tackle,  or  assemblage  of  pulleys,  which  tops  the  upper  end 
of  the  mizzen-yard.  This  line,  and  the  six  following,  describe 
the  operation  of  reefing  and  balancing  the  mizzen.  The  knittle 
is  a  short  line  used  to  reef  the  sails  by  the  bottom.  The  throt  is 
that  part  of  the  mizzen  yard,  which  is  close  to  the  mast. 

FALCONER. 


TO    CANTO    II.  171 

P.   64,  1.  386.       The   head,   with   doubling   canvas 
fenced  around. 

This  was  done  to  prevent  any  chafing  of  the  sail  when  bal- 
anced. The  operation  of  balancing  is  now  totally  disused;  great 
improvements  having  been  since  made  both  in  the  theory  and 
practice  of  seamanship.  Captain  Bentinck  of  the  Royal  Navy 
invented,  and  used  triangular  courses,  which  he  carried  with 
singular  effect  in  the  heaviest  gales;  and  these  courses  were 
named  after  him  Bentincks :  since  which,  storm  stay-sails  have 
superseded  their  use ;  and  seem  to  answer  every  purpose,  either 
for  lyiug-to,  or  giving  the  ship  way  through  the  water.  N.  P. 

P.  66, 1.  436. 

Across  the  geometric  plane  expands 
The  compasses  to  circumjacent  lands. 

Here  again,  the  third  edition  has  been  guilty  of  an -injudicious 
alteration :  — 

"In  vain  athwart  the  mimic  seas  expands." 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that  in  our  navy  no  mathematical  instru- 
ments are  sent  on  board  by  the  admiralty.  Even  the  master  is 
obliged  to  purchase  them  out  of  his  pay;  and,  as  that  is  but 
moderate,  he  naturally  procures  the  cheapest  that  can  be 
obtained.  One  set  at  least  of  the  very  best  that  the  metropolis 
can  produce,  should  be  sent  from  the  board  to  each  ship ;  having 
previously  been  examined  by  the  Royal  Astronomer  at  Green- 
wich. The  institution  of  an  hydrographer  at  the  Admiralty,  in 
order  to  furnish  our  ships  with  correct  charts,  will,  probably,  in 
time  lead  to  the  above  mentioned  desideratum.  It  is  painful  to 
observe  the  wretched  instruments  that  are  now  in  use  on  board ; 
nor  can  the  exception  of  a  few  ships,  whose  captains  are  men  of 
independent  fortunes,  weaken  this  assertion. 


172  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  67, 1.  458.      Companion,  binacle. 

The  companion  is  a  wooden  porch  placed  over  the  ladder,  that 
leads  down  to  the  cabins  of  the  officers.  The  binacle  is  a  case, 
which  is  placed  on  deck  before  the  helm,  containing  three 
divisions;  the  middle  one  for  a  lamp,  or  candle,  and  the  two 
others  for  mariners'  compasses.  There  are  always  two  binacles 
on  the  deck  of  a  ship  of  war,  one  of  which  is  placed  before  the 
master,  at  his  appointed  station.  In  all  the  old  sea  books  it  was 
called  bittacle.  FALCONER. 

P.  67, 1.  464.     They  sound  the  •well 

The  well  is  an  apartment  in  a  ship's  hold,  serving  to  inclose 
the  pumps :  it  is  sounded  by  dropping  down  a  measured  iron  rod, 
which  is  connected  with  a  long  line.  The  brake  is  the  pump 
handle:  Falconer  again  alludes  to  this  iron  rod,  (Page  76, 1.  697,) 
"  Sounding  her  depth  they  eyed  the  wetted  scale."  A  most 
valuable  discovery  was  made  some  years  since  by  Mr.  Richard 
Wells,  and  communicateil  to  the  American  Philosophical  So- 
ciety ;  by  means  of  which  vessels  could  be  pumped  at  sea,  with- 
out the  labour  of  men.  See  also  Naval  Chronicle  (Vol.  IL 
p.  237.) 

P.  69,  1.  520.      Meanwhile    Anon    traversing    the 
waist. 

The  waist  is  that  part  of  a  ship  which  is  contained  between 
the  quarter  deck  and  fore-castle;  or  the  middle  of  that  deck 
which  is  immediate!}'  below  them.  When  the  waist  of  a  mer- 
chant ship  is  only  one  or  two  steps  in  descent  from  the  quarter 
deck  and  fore-castle,  she  is  said  to  be  galley  built;  but  \vhen  it 
is  considerably  deeper,  as  with  six  or  seven  steps,  she  is  then 
called  frigate  built.  FALCONER. 


TO    CANTO    II.  173 

P.  70, 1.  540. 

Cimmerian  darJcness  shades  the  deep  around, 
Save  when  the  lightnings  in  terrific  blaze 
Deluge  the  cheerless  gloom  with  horrid  rays : 
Above,  all  ether  fraught  toith  scenes  of  woe. 

I  have  already  in  the  Life  of  Falconer  mentioned  the  uncer- 
tainty that  prevails,  respecting  the  author  of  the  favourite  song, 
Cease,  rude  Boreas :  in  this  passage  additional  testimony  seems 
to  arise,  that  it  was  composed  by  Falconer :  — 

"  In  our  eyes  blue  lightnings  flash: 
One  wide  water  all  around  us, 
All  above  us  one  black  sky! " 

P.  70, 1.  552 the  booming  waters  roar. 

Beautifully  expressive  of  their  violence :  thus  Young, 

" booming  o'er  his  head 

The  billows  closed;  he's  number'd  with  the  dead!" 
In  the  third  edition,  however,  this  epithet  was  expunged :  — 

" o'er 

The  sea-beat  ship  the  involving  waters  roar." 

P.  71, 1.  577.     Her  place  discovered  by  the  rules  of 
art. 

The  lee-way,  or  drift,  in  this  passage  are  synonymous  terms. 
The  true  course  and  distance,  resulting  from  these  traverses,  is 
discovered  by  collecting  the  difference  of  latitude,  and  departure 
of  each  course ;  and  reducing  the  whole  into  one  departure,  and 
one  difference  of  latitude,  according  to  the  known  rules  of  trigo- 
nometry :  this  reduction  will  immediately  ascertain  the  base  and 
perpendicular ;  or,  in  other  words,  will  give  the  difference  of  lat- 
itude and  departure,  to  discover  the  course  and  distance. 

FALCONEB. 


174  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

% 

P.  71,  1.  581.-   Falconera,  St.  George,  Gardalor. 

Falconera,  a  small  island  in  the  Archipelago,  to  the  N.  W.  of 
Milo :  there  is  an  open  space  of  sea  to  the  North  and  South  of  it ; 
but  in  every  other  direction  are  islands  at  no  great  distance. 
Falconer,  in  his  chart,  prefixed  to  the  second  edition,  marked 
a  line  of  rocks  throughout  the  E.  and  S.  E.  coast  of  this  island. 
The  small  and  steep  island  of  St.  George  is  situated  to  the  S.  W. 
of  Cape  Colonna,  at  the  entrance  of  the  gulf  of  Egina.  Gardalor 
lies  off  the  coast  of  Attica,  between  Cape  Colonna  and  Porto 
Leono. 

P.  73, 1.  615. 

These  seas,  where  storms  at  various  seasons  blow, 
No  reigning  winds  nor  certain  omens  know. 

It  is  in  consequence  of  this  that  the  Greeks  in  all  ages  have 
been  excellent  boatmen,  and  bad  seamen.  Mr.  Mitford  informs  us, 
in  the  first  volume  of  his  History  of  Greece,  that  the  English  are 
the  only  navigators  who  can  keep  this  sea  in  rough  weather,  and 
that  they  "  alone,  accustomed  in  all  their  surrounding  waters  to 
a  bolder  navigation,  commonly  venture  in  the  Archipelago  to  work 
to  windward."  Mr.  Wood,  iu  his  Essay  on  Homer,  adds  —  "  I  re- 
member to  have  heard  an  English  captain  of  a  Turkey  ship,  a  man 
of  knowledge  and  character,  say ;  that  he  did  not  scruple,  in  tol- 
erable weather,  to  work  within  the  arches,  as  our  seamen  call 
the  Archipelago,  (which  is  itself  a  corruption  of  the  modern 
Greek  Aigiopelago) ;  but  he  made  it  a  rule  never  to  take  off  his 
clothes;  and,  without  leaving  orders,  to  be  called  in  the  instant 
of  any  threatening  appearance  in  the  sky,  or  any  dubious  sight 
of  land,  never  to  quit  the  deck." 

P.  74, 1.  661. 

Yet  where  with  safety  can  we  dare  to  scud 
Before  this  tempest,  and  pursuing  flood? 

The  movement  of  scudding,  from  the  Swedish  word  skutta,  is 


TO    CANTO    II.  175 

never  attempted  in  a  contrary  wind,  unless,  as  in  the  present  in- 
stance, the  condition  of  a  ship  renders  her  incapable  of  sustain- 
ing any  longer  on  her  side-,  the  mutual  efforts  of  the  winds  and 
•waves.  The  principal  hazards,  incident  to  scudding,  are  gene- 
rally a  pooping  sea;  the  difficulty  of  steering  which  exposes  the 
vessel  perpetually  to  the  risk  of  broaching-to ;  and  the  want  of 
sufficient  sea-room:  a  sea  striking  the  ship  violently  on  the  stern 
may  dash  it  inwards,  by  which  she  must  inevitably  founder ;  in 
broaching-to  suddenly,  she  is  threatened  with  being  immediately 
overset ;  and,  for  want  of  sea-room,  she  is  endangered  with  ship- 
wreck on  a  lee-shore ;  a  circumstance  too  dreadful  to  require  ex- 
planation. FALCOXEK. 

P.  76, 1.  701. 

And  now  the  senior  pilots  seem'd  to  wait 
Arion's  voice  to  close  the  dark  debate. 

The  word  pilots  occurs  too  often,  since  it  is  invariably  used  in 
a  sense  foreign  to  its  real  meaning  —  the  master,  and  mates 
of  the  vessel.  The  reader  will  herevemember,  under  the  charac- 
ter of  Arion  that  of  Falconer  himself  is  described :  in  the  speech 
therefore,  that  succeeds,  we  have  the  real  sentiments  of  our 
author  at  this  critical  emergency,  which,  with  considerable 
effect,  he  has  thus  reserved  to  close  the  debate. 

P.  77, 1.  717.     Thus  water-logged— 

A  ship  is  said  to  be  water-logged,  when,  having  received 
through  -her  leaks  a  great  quantity  of  water  in  her  hold,  she  has 
become  so  heavy  and  inactive  on  the  sea,  as  to  yield  without 
resistance  to  the  efforts  of  every  wave  that  rushes  over  the  deck. 
As  in  this  dangerous  situation  the  centre  of  gravity  is  no  longer 
fixed,  but  fluctuates  from  place  to  place,  the  stability  of  the  ship 
is  utterly  lost:  she  is  therefore  almost  totally  deprived  of  the  use 
of  her  sails,  which  operate  to  overset  her,  or  press  the  head  under 
•water :  hence  there  is  no  resource  for  the  crew,  except  to  free 


176  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

her  by  the  pumps,  or  to  abandon  her  for  the  boats  as  soon  as 
possible.  FALCONER. 

P.  81,  1.  830.     Hatches,  lanyard. 

Falconer,  to  avoid  repetition,  has  in  the  word  hatches,  em- 
ployed a  term  which  he  himself  in  his  dictionary  informs  us, 
seamen  sometimes  incorrectly  use  for  gratings ;  a  sort  of  open 
cover  for  the  hatchways,  formed  by  several  small  laths,  or  bat- 
tens, which  cross  each  other  at  right  angles,  leaving  a  square 
interval  between :  these  gratings  are  not  only  of  service  to  admit 
the  air  and  light  between  decks,  but  also  to  let  off  the  smoke' of 
the  great  guns  during  action. 

Lanyard,  or  laniard,  is  a  short  piece  of  line  fastened  to  differ- 
ent things  on  board  a  ship,  to  preserve  them  in  a  particular 
place;  such  are  the  lanyards  of  the  gun  ports,  the  lanyard  of  the 
buoy,  the  lanyard  of  the  cat  hook,  &c.  but  the  lanyards  alluded 
to  in  the  above  line,  were  those,  by  means  of  which  the  shrouds 
were  kept  extended ;  or,  as  a  sailor  would  express  himself,  taught. 

P.  84,  1.  901.      Both  stay-sail  sheets   to   mid-ships 
were  conveyed. 

The  fore  stay-sail  being  one  of  the  sails  which  command  the 
fore  part  of  the  ship,  is  for  that  reason  hoisted  at  this  time,  to 
bear  her  fore  part  round  before  the  wind :  for  the  same  reason, 
after  it  is  split,  the  foremost  yards  are  braced  aback ;  that  is,  so 
as  to  form  right  angles  with  the  direction  of  the  wind.  For  a 
further  illustration  of  this,  see  the  subsequent  note. 

FALCONEE. 

P.  84,  1.  914.      And  hew  at  once   the  mizzen-mast 
away  ! 

In  addition  to  the  nautical  notes  by  Falconer,  the  following 
illustration  of  the  orders  that  have  been  given  by  Albert,  was 
subjoined  by  our  author  to  the  second  edition.  —  "  When  a  ship 


TO    CANTO    II.  177 

is  forced  by  the  violence  of  a  contrary  wind  to  furl  all  her  sails, 
if  the  storm  increases,  and  the  sea  continue  to  rise,  she  is  often 
strained  to  so  great  a  degree,  that,  to  ease  her,  she  must  be  made 
to  run  before  their  mutual  direction;  which  however  is  rarely 
done  but  in  cases  of  the  last  necessity :  now  as  she  has  no  head- 
way the  helm  is  deprived  of  its  governing  power,  as  the  latter 
effect  is  only  produced  in  consequence  of  the  former:  it  therefore 
necessarily  requires  an  uncommon  effort  to  wheel,  or  turn  her, 
into  any  different  position.  It  is  an  axiom  in  natural  philosophy, 
that,  '  Every  body  will  persevere  in  its  state  of  rest,  or  moving 
uniformly  in  a  right  line,  unless  it  be  compelled  to  change  its- 
state  by  forces  impressed ;  and  that  the  change  of  motion  is  pro- 
portional to  the  moving  force  impressed,  and  is  made  according 
to  the  right  line  in  which  that  force  acts.' 

"  By  this  principle  it  is  easy  to  conceive,  how  a  ship  is  com- 
pelled to  turn  into  any  direction,  by  the  force  of  the  wind  acting 
upon  her  sails  in  lines  parallel  to  the  plane  of  the  horizon ;  for 
the  sails  may  be  so  set,  as  to  receive  the  current  of  air  either 
directly,  or  more  or  less  obliquely;  and  the  motion  communi- 
cated to  the  ship  must  of  necessity  conspire  with  that  of  the 
wind.  As  therefore  the  ship  lies  in  such  a  situation  as  to  have 
the  wind  and  sea  directly  on  her  side;  and  these  increase  to 
such  a  height,  that  she  must  either  founder,  or  scud  before  the 
storm ;  the  afrmost  sails  are  first  taken  in,  or  so  placed  that  the 
wind  has  very  little  power  on  them ;  and  the  head-sails,  or  fore- 
most sails,  are  spread  abroad,  so  that  the  whole  force  of  the  wind 
is  exerted  on  the  ship's  fore-part,  which  must  therefore  of  neces- 
sity yield  to  its  impulse.  The  prow  being  thus  put  in  motion, 
its  motion  must  conspire  with  that  of  the  wind,  and  will  be 
pushed  about  so  as  to  run  immediately  before  it:  for  this  reason, 
when  no  more  sail  can  be  carried,  the  foremost  yards  are  braced 
aback,  that  is,  in  such  a  position  as  to  receive  all  the  current  of 
air  they  can  contain  directly  to  perform  the  operation  of  head- 
sails  ;  and  the  mizzen-ynrd  is  lowered  to  produce  the  same*  effect 
as  furling,  or  placing  obliquely  the  aftmost  sails;  and  this  at- 
tempt being  found  insufficient,  the  mizzen-mast  is  cut  away, 
which  must  have  been  followed  by  the  main-mast,  if  the  expected 
effect  had  not  taken  place." 

12 


178  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 


CANTO  IH. 

P.  89, 1.  1.      When  in  a  barbarous  age,  &c. 

These  beautiful  introductory  reflections  on  the  beneficial  in- 
fluence of  poetry,  as  promoting  the  civilization,  and  consequently 
the  happiness  of  mankind,  form  an  unanswerable  reply  to  the 
enthusiastic  ravings  of  -Rousseau,  and  his  fellow  madmen ;  who 
have  attempted  to  raise  the  character  of  the  human  savage, 
above  the  mind  that  has  been  polished  with  the  embellishments 
of  social  life. 


P.  91, 1.  65. 

While  round  before  the  enlarging  wind  it  falls, 
"  Square  fore  and  aft  the  yards"  the  master  calls. 

The  wind  is  said  to  enlarge,  when  it  veers  from  the  side 
towards  the  stern.  To  square  the  yards  is,  in  this  place,  to 
haul  them  directly  across  the  ship's  length.  FALCONEB. 

P.  92, 1.  69.     So,  steady!  meet  her! 

Steady !  is  an  order  to  steer  the  ship  according  to  the  line  on 
which  she  then  advances,  without  deviating  to  the  right,  or  left. 

FALCONEK. 

P.  92, 1.  73.     Then  back  to  port,  &c. 

The  left  side  of  a  ship  is  called  port  in  steering,  that  the  helms- 
men may  not  mistake  larboard  for  starboard.  In  all  large  ships, 
the  tiller,  (or  long  bar  of  timber,  that  is  fixed  horizontally  to  the 
upper  end  of  the  rudder,)  is  guided  by  a  wheel,  which  acts  upon 
it  with  the  powers  of  a  crane,  or  windlass.  FALCOXER. 


TO    CAXTO    III.  179 

P.  93, 1.  99.     -4s  that  rebellious  angel,  &c. 

This  allusion  to  the  fliglit  of  Satan  from  hell,  forms  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  similes  in  the  poem.  It  is  described  by  Milton 
in  two  separate  passages  at  the  conclusion  of  his  second  book 
of  Paradise  Lost. 


P.  93, 1.  113.    Poop,  bow. 

Poop,  from  the  Latin  -word  puppis,  is  the  hindmost,  and  highest 
deck  of  a  ship.  The  bow  is  the  rounding  part  of  a  ship's  side 
forward,  beginning  at  the  place  where  the  planks  arch  inwards, 
and  terminating  where  they  close  at  the  stem,  or  prow. 

FALCONEB. 


P.  94, 1.  129 when  past  the  beam  it  flies. 

On  the  beam,  implies  any  distance  from  the  ship  on  a  line 
with  the  beams,  or  at  right  angles  with  the  keel :  thus,  if  the  ship 
steers  northward,  any  object  lying  east  of  west,  is  said  to  be  on 
her  starboard,  or  larboard  beam.  FALCONER. 

P.  95, 1.  154. 

They  did:  for  in  this  desert,  joyless  soil, 
No  flowers  of  genial  science  deign  to  smile. 

The  whole  of  what  follows  would  have  been  more  clearly 
expressed,  had  our  author  substituted  our,  for  this:  since  the 
rdader  is  at  first  troubled  to  find  out,  whether  the  soil  of  the 
classic  territory  of  Greece  is  not  alluded  to  — 

"  They  did:  for  in  our  desert,  joyless  soil — " 

Or  in  our  uneducated  miserable  profession,  no  love  of  science,  or 
of  literature,  ever  appears. 

In  these  and  the  following  lines,  Falconer  very  unjustly  abuses 
the  taste,  and  classical  acquirements  of  naval  officers :  his  own 
mind  was  alone  sufficient  to  contradict  such  an  assertion.  No 


180  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

profession  whatever  cherishes  with  more  assiduity  the  "  flo\vers 
of  genial  science,"  and  the  glowing  numbers  of  poesy,  than  tho 
British  Navy.  To  the  name  of  Falconer  may  be  added  that  of 
Mickle,  and  many  others,  who  were,  as  Mr.  Pye  says, 

"Nursed  on  the  waves,  and  cradled  in  the  storm." 

Nor  can  I  allow,  that  ocean's  genius  withers  the  bloom  of  every 
springing  flower:  the  sublime  Camoens  composed  the  greater 
part  of  his  Lusiadas  at  sea,  under  the  immediate  influence  of  this 
genius;  and,  if  I  were  requested  to  select  a  person,  whose  tuste 
for  poetry,  and  other  classic  acquirements,  was  superior  to  that 
of  the  rest  of  mankind,  I  should  be  justified  in  mentioning  a 
name,  which  will  ever  be  engraven  on  my  heart  —  the  late  Admi- 
ral J.  W.  Payne. 

P.  96, 1.  178. 

Immortal  Athens  first,  in  ruin  spread, 
Contiguous  lies  at  Port  Liono's  head. 

Porto  Leone,  the  ancient  Pirseum,  received  its  modern  title 
from  a  large  lion  of  white  marble,  since  carried  by  the  Venetians 
to  their  arsenal.  The  ports  of  ancient  Athens  were  —  1.  Pha- 
lerim;  2.  Munichia;  and  3.  Pyraeus,  the  most  capacious. 

A  particular  account  of  modern  Athens,  or  as  it  is  now  called 
Athini,  is  given  by  Dr.  Chandler:  it  was  also  visited  by  Lord 
Sandwich  in  his  voyage  round  the  Mediterranean.  Its  antiqui- 
ties have  been  amply  described  by  Le  Roy,  and  Stuart.  I  have 
already  mentioned  the  dangerous  navigation  of  the  Archipelago, 
and  it  is  considerably  increased  as  yon  advance  towards  Porto 
Leone;  particularly  if  the  ship  is  of  any  great  burden.  At  the 
close  of  the  year  1802,  the  Brnakcl  of  54  guns,  commanded  by 
my  brother  Capt.  George  Clarke,  was  sent  on  this  hazardous 
service;  which  he  accomplished  at  the  \nost  imminent  risk  — 
the  following  extract  from  his  letter  will  illustrate  the  danger 
which  Falconer  so  well  describes:  "From  the  ignorance  of  the 
pilot,  the  Braakel,  when  in  stays,  struck  at  midnight  on  a  point ' 
of  land,  that  forms  the  entrance  of  the  harbour  of  Porto  Leone, 


TO    CANTO    III.  181 

eight  miles  from  the  town  of  Athens.  I  contrived  to  land  a 
quantity  of  provisions  on  .the  rocks,  and  was  obliged  to  order 
half  the  guns  to  be  hove  overboard;  at  the  same  time  a  sheet 
anchor,  and  cable,  were  got  out  astern  to  heave  the  ship  off,  which 
•we  in  vain  attempted  for  many  hours :  at  length,  to  our  great 
joy,  being  assisted  by  the  wind  coming  strong  right  off  the  land, 
we  swung  round  off,  and  rode  stern  to  wind  by  the  above  men- 
tioned anchor.  In  about  an  hour  the  weather  changed ;  the  wind 
shifted,  and  placed  the  ship  with  a  strong  gale,  and  heavy  sea, 
close  to  the  shore.  The  cable  was  instantly  cut,  and  we  made 
sail  to  get  round  the  northern  extremity  of  the  point ;  when  the 
pilot  again  mistaking  the  land,  we  anchored  in  a  wrong  position, 
yet  clear  of  the  rocks ;  until  the  wind  shifting,  placed  the  ship  in 
the  middle  of  a  second  dark  stormy  night.  We  came  slap  on  shore, 
along-side  the  rocks;  fortunately  the  ship  lay  tolerably  easy, 
being  assisted  by  the  anchor;  which  owing  to  the  wind  shifting, 
brought  it  well  out  on  the  starboard  bow.  D^y-break  at  length 
appeared,  and  the  gale  shifted  again :  hove  on  the  anchor,  and 
succeeded  in  getting  her  off  after  a  few  hard  knocks,  the 
loss  of  a  little  copper,  and  part  of  the  false  keel.  Made  sail 
again,  weathered  our  danger,  and  anchored  for  want  of  wind; 
when  a  breeze  springing  up,  we  got  safe  into  Porto  Leone.  In  per- 
forming this  we  lost  the  sheet  anchor,  the  stream,  and  the  kedge. 
On  leaving  this  harbour  we  were  driven  back  three  times :  when 
I  bore  up  for  Port  Oliver,  in  the  island  of  Metelin,  where  there  is 
a  harbour  beyond  description  safe,  and  spacious.  I  do  not  think 
this  is  generally  known ;  or  what  is  more,  that  the  Turks  build 
frigates  there;  one  of  32  guns  was  at  this  time  on  the  stocks." 

G.  C. 

P.  98, 1.  243.     That  pipes  among   The  Shades   of 
Endermay. 

A  song  entitled  the  Birks  of  Endermay  was  written  by  Mallet, 
and  is  mentioned  by  Dr.  Currie  in  his  Life  of  Burns.    (Page  278.) 


182  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  100,  1.  287.     No  human  footstep  marks  the  track- 
less sand. 

And  thus  Petrarch, 

Dove  vestigio  uman  1'arena  stampi.  F.  D. 

P.  101, 1.  311.     The  seat  of  sacred  Troy  is  found  no 
more. 

Amidst  the  disputes  that  have  harassed  the  learned  •world  on 
this  subject,  I  am  glad  to  subjoin  the  opinion  of  my  brother, 
fellow  of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge,  who  has  so  lately  visited 
Troy;  and,  after  a  minute  examination  of  every  particular  on 
the  spot,  has  been  convinced  that  such  a  city  did  exist,  as  was 
described  by  Homer.  —  "  Travellers  visiting  the  plain  of  Troy  in 
search  of  columns,  or  statues,  by  which  the  site  of  ancient  Ilium 
may  be  determined,  are  not  less  idly  occupied,  than  those  per- 
sons who  have  pretended  to  discover  such  remains :  the  latter 
class  have  fallen  into  the  error  of  the  painter,  employed  by 
Comte  de  Caylus,  (see  Winkelman,  liv.  iv.  ch.  8,  note,)  to 
illustrate  the  picture  by  Polygnotus  at  Delphi,  according  to 
Pausanius ;  who  ornamented  the  city  of  Troy  with  columns  and 
statues  of  marble — monuments  of  the  arts,  that  were  unknown 
at  the  time  of  the  Trojan  war.  All  that  we  can  expect  to  dis- 
cover, in  order  to  identify  the  scene  of  that  war,  are  the  features 
of  nature  as  described  by  Homer;  and  these  are  found,  precisely 
answering  his  description."  E.  D.  C.  Dr.  Chandler  has  lately 
considered  this  subject  in  his  History  of  Troy. 

P,  101, 1.  320. 

Whose  gleam  directed  loved  Leander  o'er 
The  rolling  Hellespont 

A  few  years  since,  a  servant  of  the  Neapolitan  Consul  at  the 
Dardanelles,  swam  across  the  Hellespont;  and,  after  a  short 


TO    CANTO    III.  183 

walk  on  the  Asiatic  coast,  returned  back  in  safety,  notwithstand- 
ing the  extreme  rapidity  otthe  current.  E.  D.  C. 

P.  102, 1.  333.     Remote  from  ocean  lies  the  Delphit 
plain. 

Falconer  very  properly  writes  Delphic.  Swift  made  a  point 
of  writing  Delphos,  instead  of  Delphi ;  and  until  I  had  perused 
Bentley's  Dissertation  on  Phalaris,  I  thought  it  should  be  thus 
written.  Jortin,  on  this  account,  says  of  Swift,  that  "  he  should 
have  received  instruction  from  whatever  quarter  it  came ;  from 
Wotton,  from  Bentley,  or  from  Beelzebub." — It  was  my  rela- 
tion, Dr.  Wotton,  who  first  noticed  the  absurd  use  of  Delphos 
for  Delphi:  see  the  above  Dissertation,  (Preface,  page  46,)  where 
Bentley  defends  Dr.  Wotton's  opinion. 

Few  travellers  have  visited  Delphi,  although  it  is  perhaps  the 
most  interesting,  even  in  its  present  state7  of  all  that  were 
Grecian  cities.  Some  remains  of  its  celebrated  temples  may 
still  be  seen,  astonishing  by  their  prodigious  size  and  workman- 
ship. But  the  beauty  of  the  Castalian  spring,  adorned  with  wild 
and  hanging  foliage,  surrounded  by  the  precipices,  and  rocks  of 
Parnassus,  is  unequalled.  E.  D.  C. 

P.  105, 1.  409.     The  impelling  floods,  that  lash  her 
to  the  shore. 

Falconer  was  too  fond  of  similes,  particularly  in  the  third  edi- 
tion, where  the  following  was  introduced  after  the  above  line :  — 

"  As  some  benighted  traveller,  through  the  shade, 
Explores  the  devious  path  with  heart  dismay'd; 
While  prowling  savages  behind  him  roar, 
And  yawning  pits,  and  quagmires  lurk  before  —  " 
And  after  line  409  in  the  same  page, 

"  As  some  fell  conqueror,  frantic  with  success, 
Sheds  o'er  the  nations  ruin  and  distress." 

Both  these  similes  come  too  quick  after  that  of  the  retreating 


184  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS 

army.    In  this,  and  other  similar  instances,  I  have  preferred  the 
second  edition. 


P.  105. 

After  line  425  the  second  edition  reads, 

"  Such  flaming  horror  Amos'  *  son  foretold, 
Down-rushing  on  the  Assyrian  king  of  old." 

And  in  the  same  page,  subsequent  to  the  fourth  line,  in  the 
same  edition, 

"Aghast  on  deck  the  shivering  wretches  stood, 
While  fear  and  chill  despair  congeal'd  their  hlood: 
And  lo !  all  terrible,  the  King  of  kings 
Through  the  sad  sky,  array'd  in  lightning,  springs: 
Tremendous  panoply !  his  right  arm  bare 
Red  burning,  shoots  destruction  through  the  air ! 
Hark!  his  strong  voice,"  &c. 
After  the  two  lines  that  follow,  are  also  inserted, 

"  Wide  bursts  in  dazzling  sheets  the  sulphur'd  flame, 
And  dread  concussion  rends  the  ethereal  frame : 
Not  fiercer  tremors  shook  the  world  beneath, 
When,  writhing  in  the  pangs  of  cruel  death, 
The  sacred  Lord  of  life  resign!d  his  breath." 

P.  106, 1.  453.     Forth  issues  o'er  the  wave  the  weep- 
ing morn  ! 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that  Falconer  did  not  here  describe  that 
beautiful  phenomenon  called  the  marine  rainbow,  which  is  some- 
times observed  in  a  sea  much  agitated.  Twenty  or  thirty  may 
be  seen  together,  and  in  a  position  opposite  to  that  of  the  com- 
mon bow.  The  Weeping  Morn  has  been  selected  by  Mr.  Pocock 
as  the  subject  of  a  large  marine  picture,  which  he  executed  with 
his  usual  giuius. 

*  Isaiah,  chap.  xxx. 


TO    CANTO    III.  185 

P.  108, 1.  489.     Still  they  dread  her  broaching -to. 

The  great  difficulty  of  steering  the  ship  at  this  time  before  the 
•wind,  is  occasioned  by  its  striking  her  on  the  quarter,  when  she 
makes  the  least  angle  on  either  side ;  which  often  forces  her  stern 
round,  and  brings  her  broadside  to  the  wind  and  sea:  this  is  an. 
effect  of  the  same  cause/which  is  explained  in  the  last  note  of 
the  second  canto.  FALCONEK. 

P.  108, 1.  496. 

Not  half  so  dreadful  to  Eneas'  eyes 
The  straits  of  Sicily  were  seen  to  rise. 

Alluding  to  the  following  beautiful  passage  in  Virgil,  (JSneid. 
HI.  v.  554): 

"  Turn  procul  e  fluctu  Trinacria  cernitftr  ^Etna, 
Et  gemitum  ingentem  felagi,  pulsataque  saxa 
Audimus  longe,  fractasque  ad  littora  voces; 
Exultantque  vada,  atque  sestu  miscenter  arense. 
Et  pater  Anchises:  'Nimirum  hajc  ilia  Charybdis: 
Hos  Helenus  scopulos,  haec  saxa  horrenda  canebat. 
Eripite,  6  Socii,  pariterque  insurgite  remis.' 
Haud  minus,  ac  jussi,  faciunt:  primusque  rudentem 
Contorsit  Irevas  proram  Palinurus  ad  undas: 
Lsevam  cuncta  cohors  remis,  ventisque  petivit. 
Tollimur  in  coelum  curvato  gurgite,  et  iidem 
Subductf)  ad  manes  imos  descendimus  unda. 
Ter  scopuli  clamorem  inter  cava  saxa  dedere; 
Ter  spuman  elisam,  et  rorantia  vidimus  astra." 

After  this  allusion,  the  second  edition  inserts    the    following 
lines :  — 

"  So  they  attempt  St.  George's  shoals  to  clear, 
Which  close  beneath  the  larboard  beam  appear." 


186  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 

P.  110, 1.  560. 

The  vessel,  while  the  dread  event  draws  nigh, 
Seems  more  impatient  o'er  the  waves  to  fly. 

An  idea  equally  correct  and  beautiful,  and  well  understood 
by  all  who  have  been  engaged  with  a  lee  shore.  Having  occa- 
sion to  wear,  the  mind  anxious,  and  care-worn,  becomes  impa- 
tient to  try  the  other  tack;  and  therefore  fancies  that  the  vessel 
flies  towards  danger,  with  unwonted  celerity.  N.  P. 

P.  Ill,  1.  582 the  faithful  stay 

Drags  the  main  top-mast  by  the  cap  away. 

The  main  top-mast  stay  comes  to  the  fore-mast  head,  and 
consequently  depends  upon  the  fore-mast  as  its  support.  The 
cap  is  a  strong,  thick  block  of  wood,  used  to  confine  the  upper 
and  lower  masts  together,  as  the  one  is  raised  at  the  head  of  the 
other.  The  principal  caps  of  a  ship  are  those  of  the  lower  masts. 

FALCONEK. 

P.  113,  1.  632.      For   every  wave   now   smites   the 
quivering  yard. 

The  sea  at  this  time  ran  so  high,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
descend  from  the  mast-head  without  being  washed  overboard. 

FALCONER. 

P.  119, 1.  793,  &c. 

Down  from  his  neck,  with  Mazing  gems  arrayed, 
Thy  image,  lovely  Anna!  hung  portray 'd  ; 
The  unconscious  figure,  smiling  all  serene. 

This  image  of  the  calm,  unconscious  portrait,  is  a  most  poet- 
ical, new,  and  striking  combination.  W.  L.  B. 


TO    CANTO   III.  187 

P.  123, 1.  873.       Oh!    then,  to  swell  the  tides  of 

social  woe. 
After  this  line,  the  second  edition  reads, 

"  Thou,  who  hast  taught  the  tragic  harp  to  mourn 
In  early  youth  o'er  Frederic's  royal  urn." 

P.  123, 1.  882.    All  thoughts  of  happiness  on  earth 
are  vain  ! 

" sed  scilicet  ultima  semper . 

Expectanda  dies  hoinini ;  dicique  beatus 
Ante  obitum  nemo  supremaque  funera  debet." 

FALCONEK. 


THE    DEMAGOGUE. 


THE  DEMAGOGUE. 

BOLD  is  the  attempt,  in  these  licentious  times, 
When  with  such  towering  strides  sedition  climbs, 
With  sense  or  satire  to  confront  her  power, 
And  charge  her  in  the  great  decisive  hour : 
Bold  is  the  man,  who,  on  her  conquering  day, 
Stands  in  the  pass  of  fate  to  bar  her  way : 
Whose  heart,  by  frowning  arrogance  unawed, 
Or  the  deep-lurking  snares  of  specious  fraud, 
The  threats  of  giant-faction  can  deride, 
And  stem,  with  stubborn  arm,  her  roaring  tide. 
For  him  unnumber'd  brooding  ills  await, 
Scorn,  malice,  insolence,  reproach,  and  hate : 
At  him,  who  dares  this  legion  to  defy, 
A  thousand  mortal  shafts  in  secret  fly : 
Revenge,  exulting  with  malignant  joy, 
Pursues  the  incautious  victim  to  destroy : 
And  slander  strives,  with  unrelenting  aim, 
To  spit  her  blasting  venom  on  his  name : 
Around  him  faction's  harpies  flap  their  wings, 
And  rhyming  vermin  dart  their  feeble  stings : 


192  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

In  vain  the  wretch  retreats,  while  in  full  cry, 
Fierce  on  his  throat  the  hungry  bloodhounds  fly. 
Enclosed  with  perils  thus  the  conscious  muse, 
Alarm'd,  though  undismay'd,  her  danger  views. 
Nor  shall  unmanly  terror  now  control 
The  strong  resentment  struggling  in  her  soul ; 
"While  indignation,  with  resistless  strain, 
Pours  her  full  deluge  through  each  swelling  vein. 
By  the  vile  fear  that  chills  the  coward  breast, 
By  sordid  caution  is  her  voice  supprest, 
"While  arrogance,  with  big  theatric  rage, 
Audacious  struts  on  power's  imperial  stage; 
While  o'er  our  country,  at  her  dread  command, 
Black  discord,  screaming,  shakes  her  fatal  brand : 
While,  in  defiance  of  maternal  laws, 
The  sacrilegious  sword  rebellion  draws ; 
Shall  she  at  this  important  hour  retire, 
And  quench  in  Lethe's  wave  her  genuine  fire  ? 
Honour  forbid !  she  fears  no  threat'ning  foe, 
When  conscious  justice  bids  her  bosom  glow : 
And  while  she  kindles  the  reluctant  flame, 
Let  not  the  prudent  voice  of  friendship  blame ! 
She  feels  the  sting  of  keen  resentment  goad, 
Though  guiltless  yet  of  satire's  thorny  road. 
Let  other  Quixotes,  frantic  with  renown, 
Plant  on  their  brows  a  tawdry  paper  crown ! 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  193 

While  fools  adore,  and  vassal-bards  obey, 
Let  the  great  monarch-  ass  through  Gotham  bray ! 
Our  poet  brandishes  no  mimic  sword, 
To  rule  a  realm  of  dunces  self-explored : 
No  bleeding  victims  curse  his  iron  sway ; 
Nor  murder'd  reputation  marks  his  way. 
True  to  herself,  unarm'd,  the  fearless  muse 
Thro'  reason's  path  her  steady  course  pursues : 
True  to  herself  advances,  undeterr'd 
By  the  rude  clamours  of  the  savage  herd. 
As  some  bold  surgeon,  with  inserted  steel, 
Probes  deep  the  putrid  sore,  intent  to  heal ; 
So  the  rank  ulcers  that  our  patriot  load, 
Shall  she  with  caustic's  healing  fires  corrode. 
Yet  ere  from  patient  slumber  satire  wakes, 
And  brandishes  the  avenging  scourge  of  snakes ; 
Yet  ere  her  eyes,  with  lightning's  vivid  ray, 
The  dark  recesses  of  his  heart  display ; 
Let  candour  own  the  undaunted  pilot's  power, 
Felt  in  severest  danger's  trying  hour ! 
Let  truth  consenting,  with  the  trump  of  fame ! 
His  glory,  in  auspicious  strains,  proclaim ! 
He  bade  the  tempest  of  the  battle  roar, 
That  thunder'd  o'er  the  deep  from  shore  to  shore. 
How  oft,  amid  the  horrors  of  the  war, 
Chain'd  to  the  bloody  wheels  of  danger's  car, 
13 


194  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

How  oft  my  bosom  at  thy  name  has  glow'd, 
And  from  my  beating  heart  applause  bestow'd ; 
Applause,  that,  genuine  as  the  blush  of  youth 
Unknown  to  guile,  was  sanctified  by  truth ! 
How  oft  I  blest  the  patriot's  honest  rage, 
That  greatly  dared  to  lash  the  guilty  age ; 
That,  rapt  with  zeal,  pathetic,  bold,  and  strong, 
Roll'd  the  full  tide  of  eloquence  along ; 
That  power's  big  torrent  braved  with  manly  pride, 
And  all  corruption's  venal  arts  defied  ! 
When  from  afar  those  penetrating  eyes 
Beheld  each  secret  hostile  scheme  arise ; 
Watch'd  every  motion  of  the  faithless  foe, 
Each  plot  o'erturn'd,  and  baffled  every  blow : 
A  fond  enthusiast,  kindling  at  thy  name, 
I  glow'd  in  secret  with  congenial  flame ; 
While  my  young  bosom,  to  deceit  unknown, 
Believed  all  real  virtue  thine  alone. 

Such  then  he  seem'd,  and  such  indeed  might  be, 
If  truth  with  error  ever  could  agree  ! 
Sure  satire  never  with  a  fairer  hand 
Portray'd  the  object  she  design'rMo  brand. 
Alas !  that  virtue  should  so  soon  decay, 
And  faction's  wild  applause  thy  heart  betray ! 
The  muse  with  secret  sympathy  relents, 
And  human  failings,  as  a  friend,  laments : 


THE   DEMAGOGUE.  195 

But  when  those  dangerous  errors,  big  with  fate, 
Spread  discord  and  distraction  through  the  state, 
Reason  should  then  exert  her  utmost  power 
To  guard  our  passions  in  that  fatal  hour. 

There  was  a  time,  ere  yet  his  conscious  heart 
Durst  from  the  hardy  path  of  truth  depart, 
While  yet  with  generous  sentiment  it  glow'd, 
A  stranger  to  corruption's  slippery  road ; 
There  was  a  time  our  patriot  durst  avow 
Those  honest  maxims  he  despises  now. 
How  did  he  then  his  country's  wounds  bewail, 
And  at  the  insatiate  German  vulture  rail ! 
Whose  cruel  talons  Albion's  entrails  tore, 
Whose  hungry  maw  was  glutted  with  her  gore  ? 
The  mists  of  error,  that  in  darkness  held 
Our  reason,  like  the  sun,  his  voice  dispell'd. 
And  lo  !  exhausted,  with  no  power*to  save, 
We  view  Britannia  panting  on  the  wave ; 
Hung  round  her  neck,  a  millstone's  pond'rous  weight 
Drags  down  the  struggling  victim  to  her  fate ! 
While  horror  at  the  thought  our  bosom  feels, 
We  bless  the  man  this  horror  who  reveals. 

But  what  alarming  thoughts  the  heart  amaze, 
When  on  this  Janus'  other  face  we  gaze ; 
For,  lo !  possest  of  power's  imperial  reins. 
Our  chief  those  visionary  ills  disdains ! 


19G  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

Alas  !  how  soon  the  steady  patriot  turns ! 
In  vain  this  change  astonish'd  England  mourns ! 
Her  vital  blood,  that  pour'd  from  every  vein, 
So  late,  to  fill  the  accursed  Westphalian  drain, 
Then  ceased  to  flow;  the  vulture  now  no  more 
With  unrelenting  rage  her  bowels  tore. 
His  magic  rod  transforms  the  bird  of  prey ! 
The  millstone  feels  the  touch  and  melts  away ! 
And,  strange  to  tell,  still  stranger  to  believe, 
What  eyes  ne'er  saw,  and  heart  could  ne'er  conceive, 
At  once,  transplanted  by  the  sorcerer's  wand, 
Columbian  hills  in  distant  Austria  stand ! 
America,  with  pangs  before  unknown, 
Now  with  Westphalia  utters  groan  for  groan : 
By  sympathy  she  fevers  with  her  fires, 
Burns  as  she  burns,  and  as  she  dies  expires. 
From  maxims  long  adopted  thus  he  flew, 
For  ever  changing,  yet  for  ever  true ; 
Swoln  with  success,  and  with  applause  inflamed, 
He  scorn'd  all  caution,  all  advice  disclaim'd ; 
Arm'd  with  war's  thunder,  he  embraced  no  more 
Those  patriot  principles  maintained  before. 
Perverse,  inconstant,  obstinate,  and  proud, 
Drunk  with  ambition,  turbulent  and  loud, 
He  wrecks  us  headlong  on  that  dreadful  strand 
He  once  devoted  all  his  powers  to  brand ! 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  197 

Our  hapless  country  views  with  weeping  eyes, 

On  every  side,  o'erwhtlming  horrors  rise  ; 

Drain'd  of  her  wealth,  exhausted  of  her  power, 

And  agonized  as  in  the  mortal  hour ; 

Her  armies  wasted  with  incessant  toils, 

Or  doom'd  to  perish  in  contagious  soils, 

To  guard  some  needy  royal  plunderer's  throne, 

And  sent  to  fall  in  battles  not  their  own. 

The  enormous  debt  at  home,  tho'  long  o'ercharged, 

With  grievous  burdens  annually  enlarged  : 

Crush'd  with  increasing  taxes  to  the  ground, 

That  suck,  like  vampires,  every  bleeding  wound : 

Ground  with  severe  distress  the  industrious  poor, 

Driven  by  the  ruthless  landlord  to  the  door. 

While  thus  our  land  her  hapless  fate  bemoans 
In  secret,  and  with  inward  sorrow  groans  ; 
Though  deck'd  with  tinsel  trophies  of  renown, 
All  gash'd  with  sores,  with  anguish  bending  down, 
Can  yet  some  impious  parricide  appear, 
Who  strives  to  make  this  anguish  more  severe  ? 
Can  one  exist,  so  much  his  country's  foe, 
To  bid  her  wounds  with  fresh  effusion  flow  ? 
There  can ;  to  him  in  vain  she  lifts  her  eyes, 
His  soul  relentless  hears  her  piercing  sighs  ! 
Shameless  of  front,  impatient  of  control, 
He  spurs  her  onward  to  destruction's  goal ! 


198  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

Nor  yet  content  on  curst  Westphalia's  shore 
With  mad  profusion  to  exhaust  her  store, 
Still  peace  his  pompous  fulminations  brand, 
As  pirates  tremble  at  the  sight  of  land : 
Still  to  new  wars  the  public  eye  he  turns, 
Defies  all  peril,  and  at  reason  spurns ; 
Till  prest  with  danger,  by  distress  assail'd, 
That  baffled  courage,  and  o'er  skill  prevail'd ; 
Till  foundering  in  the  storm  himself  had  brew'd, 
He  strives  at  last  its  horrors  to  elude. 
Some  wretched  shift  must  still  protect  his  name, 
And  to  the  guiltless  head  transfer  his  shame : 
Then  hearing  modest  diffidence  oppose 
His  rash  advice,  that  golden  time  he  chose ; 
And  while  big  surges  threaten'd  to  o'erwhelm 
The  ship,  ingloriously  forsook  the  helm. 

But  all  the  events  collected  to  relate, 
Let  us  his  actions  recapitulate. 

He  first  assum'd,  by  mean  perfidious  art. 
Those  patriot  tenets  foreign  to  his  heart : 
Next,  by  his  country's  fond  applauses  swell'd, 
Thrust  himself  forward  into  powcc,  and  held 
The  reins  on  principles  Avhich  he  alone, 
Grown  drunk  and  wanton  with  success,  could  own ; 
Betray'd  her  interest  and  abused  her  trust ; 
Then,  deaf  to  prayers,  forsook  her  in  disgust ; 


THE   DEMAGOGUE.  199 

With  tragic  mummery,  and  most  vile  grimace, 
Rode  through  the  city  with  a  woful  face, 
As  in  distress,  a  patriot  out  of  place ! 
Insults  his  generous  prince,  and  in  the  day 
Of  trouble  'skulks,  because  he  cannot  sway ! 
In  foreign  climes  embroils  him  with  allies ! 
And  bids  at  home  the  flames  of  discord  rise ! 

She  comes !  from  hell  the  exulting  fury  springs ! 
With  grim  destruction  sailing  on  her  wings  ! 
Around  her  scream  a  hundred  harpies  fell ! 
A  hundred  demons  shriek  with  hideous  yell ! 
From  where,  in  mortal  venom  dipt  on  high, 
Full-drawn  the  deadliest  shafts  of  satire  fly, 
Where  Churchill  brandishes  his  clumsy  club, 
And  Wilkes  unloads  his  excremental  tub, 
Down  to  where  Entick,  awkward  and  unclean, 
Crawls  on  his  native  dust,  a  worm  obscene ! 
While  with  unnumber'd  wings,  from  van  to  rear, 
Myriads  of  nameless  buzzing  drones  appear : 
From  their  dark  cells  the  angry  insects  swarm, 
And  every  little  sting  attempt  to  arm. 
Here  Chaplains,*  Privileges,*  moulder  round, 
And  feeble  Scourges,*  rot  upon  the  ground : 


*  Certain  poems  intended  to  be  very  satirical;  but,  alas!  we 
refer  our  reader  to  the  Reviews. 


200  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

Here  hungry  Kenrick  strives,  with  fruitless  aim, 

With  Grub-street  slander  to  extend  his  name  : 

At  Bruin  flies  the  slavering,  snarling  cur, 

But  only  fills  his  famish'd  jaws  with  fur. 

Here  Baldwin  spreads  the  assassinating  cloke, 

Where  lurking  rancour  gives  the  secret  stroke  ; 

While  gorg'd  with  filth,  around  this  senseless  block, 

A  swarm  of  spider-bards  obsequious  flock : 

While  his  demure  Welch  goat,  with  lifted  hoof, 

In  Poet's-corner  hangs  each  flimsy  woof: 

And  frisky  grown,  attempts,  with  awkward  prance, 

On  wit's  gay  theatre  to  bleat  and  dance. 

Here,  seiz'd  with  iliac  passion,  mouthing  Leech, 

Too  low,  alas !  for  satire's  whip  to  reach, 

From  his  black  entrails,  faction's  common  sewer, 

Disgorges  all  her  excremental  store. 

With  equal  pity  and  regret  the  muse 
The  thundering  storms  that  rage  around  her  views ; 
Impartial  views  the  tides  of  discord  blend, 
Where  lordly  rogues  for  power  and  place  contend ; 
Were  not  her  patriot  heart  with  anguish  torn, 
Would  eye  the  opposing  chiefs  with  equal  scorn. 
Let  freedom's  deadliest  foes  for  freedom  bawl, 
Alike  to  her  who  govern  or  who  fall ! 
Aloof  she  stands,  all  unconcern'd  and  mute, 
While  the  rude  rabble  bellow,  "  Down  with  Bute  ! " 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  201 

While  villany  the  scourge  of  justice  bilks, 

Howl  on,  ye  ruffians  1  "  Liberty  and  Wilkes." 

Let  some  soft  mummy  of  a  peer,  who  stains 

His  rank,  some  sodden  lump  of  ass's  brains, 

To  that  abandon'd  wretch  his  sanction  give ; 

Support  his  slander,  and  his  wants  relieve  ! 

Let  the  great  hydra  roar  aloud  for  Pitt, 

And  power  and  wisdom  all  to  him  submit ! 

Let  proud  ambition's  sons,  with  hearts  severe, 

Like  parricides,  their  mother's  bowels  tear ! 

Sedition  her  triumphant  flag  display, 

And- in  embodied 'ranks  her  troops  array  !          , 

While  coward  justice,  trembling  on  her  seat, 

Like  a  vile  slave  descends  to  lick  her  feet ! 

Nor  here  let  censure  draw  her  awful  blade, 

If  from  her  theme  the  wayward  muse  has  stray'd ! 

Sometimes  the  impetuous  torrent,  o'er  its  mounds 

Redundant  bursting,  swamps  the  adjacent  grounds ; 

But  rapid,  and  impatient  of  delay, 

Through  the  deep  channel  still  pursues  its  way. 

Our  pilot  now  retired,  no  pleasure  knows, 
But  every  man  and  measure  to  oppose ; 
Like  -ZEsop's  cur,  still  snarling  and  perverse, 
Bloated  with  envy,  to  mankind  a  curse, 
No  more  at  council  his  advice  will  lend, 
But  with  all  others  who  advise  contend : 


202  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

He  bids  distraction  o'er  his  country  blaze, 

Then,  swelter'd  with  revenge,  retreats  to  Hayes :  * 

*  After  reflecting  on  the  various  events  by  which  this  extra- 
ordinary person  is  characterized,  we  cannot  resist  the  temptation 
of  quoting  a  few  anecdotes  from  Machiavel,  relative  to  a  man  of 
a  very  similar  complexion  and  constitution,  who  was  also  distin- 
guished by  a  train  of  incidents  pretty  nearly  resembling  those  we 
have  mentioned  above;  although  he  possibly  never  anticipated 
the  similitude  of  fortune  and  character  that  might  happen 
between  him  and  any  of  his  progeny.  Speaking  of  the  govern- 
ment of  Florence,  our  historian  informs  us,  that  "  Luca  Pitt,  a 
bold  and  resolute  man,  being  now  made  gonsalionere  of  justice, 
having  entered  upon  his  office,  was  very  importunate  with  the 
people  to  appoint  a  balia;  but  perceiving  it  was  to  no  purpose, 
he  not  only  treated  those  that  were  members  of  the  council  with 
great  insolence,  and  called  them  opprobrious  names,  but  threat- 
ened them,  and  soon  after  put  his  threats  in  execution:  for  hav- 
ing filled  the-palace  with  armed  men,  on  the  eve  of  St.  Lorenzo, 
•in  the  month  of  August,  1453,  he  called  the  people  together  into 
the  piazza,  and  there  compelled  them,  by  force  of  arms,  to  do 
that  which  they  would  not  so  much  as  hear  of  before.  Pitt 
had  also  very  rich  presents,  not  only  from  Cosimo  and  the  sign- 
iory,  but  from  all  the  principal  citizens,  who  vied  with  each 
other  in  their  generosity  to  him ;  so  that  it  was  thought  he  had 
above  twenty  thousand  ducats  given  him  at  that  time;  after 
which  he  became  so  popular,  that  the  city  was  no  longer  gov- 
erned by  Cosimo  di  Medici,  but  by  Luca  Pitt.  This  inspired  him 
with  vanity.  After  this  he  had  recourse  to  very  extraordinary 
means;  for  he  not  only  extorted  more  and  greater  presents 
from  the  chief  citizens,  but  also  made  the  commonalty  supply 
him  with  workmen  and  artificers,"  Machiavel's  Hist.  Florence. 
This  has  an  unlucky  resemblance  to  a  certain  great  person's 
driving  through  the  city  with  borrowed  horses,  and  being  offered 
to  have  his  horses  unyoked,  and  his  chariot  drawn  by  his  good 
friends  the  mob.  We  shall,  in  due  time  and  place,  give  some  " 
account  of  the  fall  of  Mr.  Luca  Pitt,  and  the  contempt  with 
which,  after  some  particular  events,  he  was  universally  regarded. 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  203 

Swallows  the  pension ;  but,  aware  of  blame, 
Transfers  the  profferM  peerage  to  his  dame. 
The  felon  thus  of  old,  his  name  to  save, 
His  pilfer'd  mutton  to  a  brother  gave. 

But  should  some  frantic  wretch,  whom  all  men 

know 

To  nature  and  humanity  a  foe, 
Deaf  to  the  widow's  moan  and  orphan's  cry, 
And  dead  to  shame  and  friendship's  social  tie ; 
Should  such  a  miscreant,  at  the  hour  of  death, 
To  thee  his  fortunes  and  domains  bequeath ; 
"With  cruel  rancour  wresting  from  his  heirs 
What  nature  taught  them  to  expect  as  theirs ; 
"Wouldst  thou  with  this  detested  robber  join, 
Their  legal  wealth  to  plunder  and  purloin? 
Forbid  it,  Heaven  !  thou  canst  not  be  so  base, 
To  blast  thy  name  with  infamous  disgrace ! 
The  muse  who  wakes,  yet  triumphs  o'er  thy  hate, 
Dares  not  so  black  a  thought  anticipate : 
By  Heaven,  the  muse  her  ignorance  betrays ; 
For  while  a  thousand  eyes  with  wonder  gaze, 
Tho'  gorged  and  glutted  with  his  country's  store, 
The  vulture  pounces  on  the  shining  ore ; 
In  his  strong  talons  gripes  the  golden  prey, 
And  from  the  weeping  orphan  bears  away. 

The  great,  the  alarming  deed  is  yet  to  come, 


204  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

That,  big  with  fate,  strikes  expectation  dumb. 
O !  patient,  injured  England,  yet  unveil 
Thy  eyes,  and  listen  to  the  muse's  tale, 
That  true  as  honour,  unadorn'd  with  art, 
Thy  wrongs  in  fair  succession  shall  impart ! 

Ere  yet  the  desolating  god  of  war 
Had  crush'd  pale  Europe  with  his  iron  car, 
Had  shook  her  shores  with  terrible  alarms, 
And  thunder'd  o'er  the  trembling  deep,  "  To  arms ! " 
In  climes  remote,  beyond  the  setting  sun, 
Beyond  the  Atlantic  wave,  his  rage  begun. 
Alas !  poor  country,  how  with  pangs  unknown 
To  Britain  did  thy  filial  bosom  groan ! 
What  savage  armies  did  thy  realms  invade, 
Unarm'd,  and  distant  from  maternal  aid ! 
Thy  cottages  with  cruel  flames  consumed, 
And  the  sad  owner  to  destruction  doom'd ; 
Mangled  with  wounds,  with  pungent  anguish  torn, 
Or  left  to  perish  naked  and  forlorn  ! 
What  carnage  reek'd  upon  thy  ruin'd  plain  ! 
What  infants  bled !  what  virgins  shriek'd  in  vain ! 
In  every  look  distraction  seem'd  to  glare, 
Each  heart  was  rack'd  with  horror  and  despair. 
To  Albion  then,  with  groans  and  piercing  cries, 
America  lift  up  her  dying  eyes ; 
To  generous  Albion  pour'd  forth  all  her  pain, 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  205 

To  whom  the  wretched  never  wept  in  vain. 
She  heard,  and  instant  to  relieve  her  fjew, 
Her  arm  the  gleaming  sword  of  vengeance  drew ; 
Far  o'er  the  ocean  wave  her  voice  was  known, 
That  shook  the  deep  abyss  .from  zone  to  zone : 
She  bade  the  thunder  of  the  battle  glow, 
And  pour'd  the  storm  of  lightning  on  the  foe ; 
Nor  ceased  till,  crown'd  with  victory  complete, 
Pale  Spain  and  France  lay  trembling  at  her  feet.* 


*  Although  our  author  has  no  present  inclination  to  enter  into 
political  controversy,  yet  he  cannot  avoid  citing  an  article  from 
one  of  the  modern  dictionaries,  which  in  some  measure  is  con- 
nected vrith  this  part  of  his  subject,  and  exhibits  a  view  of  the 
fidelity  and  gratitude  of  our  fellow-subjects  in  America. 

"We  are  informed  in  the  article  referred  to,  that  a  "  cartel  in  the 
marine  is  a  ship  provided  in  time  of  war  to  exchange  the  prisoners 
of  any  two  hostile  powers ;  also  to  carry  any  particular  request 
or  proposal  from  the  one  to  the  other :  for  this  reason  she  is  par- 
ticularly commanded  to  carry  no  cargo  or  arms,  only  a  single 
gun  for  firing  signals. 

"  Our  honest  Americans,  however,  who  have  so  sorely  grieved 
of  late  for  paying  a  small  part  of  the  great  taxes  of  this  country, 
although  demanded  for  their  own  particular  protection,  made 
not  only  no  scruple  to  disobey  and  despise  this  regulation  of 
cartels  during  the  late  war,  but,  on  the  contrary,  gave  continual 
supplies  of  provisions  to  our  enemies  in  the  West  Indies,  and 
thereby  recovered  them,  and  recruited  their  fallen  spirits,  at  a 
time  when  they  were  gasping  under  the  weight  of  our  arms. 
With  so  much  address,  indeed,  did  these  oppressed  and  unfor- 
tunate traders  conduct  this  scheme,  that  ten  or  twelve  cartels 
being  laden  at  the  same  time  with  beef,  pork,  bread,  flour,  &c. 
sailed  together  for  the  French  islands,  and,  in  order  to  evade  the 
strict  examination  of  our  ships  of  war,  were  provided  with  a 


206  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

Her  fears  dispell'd,  and  all  her  foes  removed, 
Her  fertile  grounds  industriously  improved, 


guardian  privateer,  equipped  by  the  same  expert  owners,  to 
seize  their  own  vessels,  and  direct  their  course  to  the  places  of 
their  first  destination;  but  if  they  were  examined  by  our  ships 
of  war,  to  an  English  port.  But  this  clumsy  trick  did  not  long 
escape  the  vigilance  of  our  naval  officers,  who  found  that  the 
fellows  sent  abroad,  by  way  of  commanders  or  prize-masters, 
•were  utterly  ignorant,  and  incapable  of  piloting  any  ship;  and 
of  consequence  only  sent  to  elude  their  scrutiny. 

"  The  most  barefaced  piece  of  effrontery,  however,  that  was 
ever  committed  of  this  kind,  was  the  seizing  an  armed  vessel, 
fitted  in  Philadelphia,  to  take  these  illegal  cartels.  She  was 
commanded  by  a  gentleman,  whom  the  majority  of  the  mer- 
chants in  that  city  joined  to  oppose  and  distress.  They  em- 
ployed a  crew  of  ruffians,  who  seized  his  vessel  openly,  in  the 
most  unwarranted  and  lawless  manner,  and  brought  her  up  in 
triumph  to  the  town,  when  she  had  only  five  men  aboard:  and 
so  inveterate  was  their  hatred  to  the  commander,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  leave  the  country  precipitately,  as  being  in  danger 
of  his  life." 

There  cannot  be  a  stronger  confirmation  of  the  truth  of  the 
above  account,  than  the  following  letter  of  Mr.  Pitt :  — 

Copy  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Secretary  Pitt  to  the  several  governors 
and  councils  in  North  America,  relating  to  the  flag  of  truce 
trade. 

"  Whitehall,  August  24, 1760. 
"  Gentlemen. 

"  The  commanders  of  his  majesty's  forces  and  fleets  in  North 
America  and  the  West  Indies  have  transmitted  certain  and 
repeated  intelligences  of  an  illegal  and  most  pernicious  trade 
carried  on  by  the  king's  subjects  in  North  America  and  the 
West  Indies,  as  well  to  the  French  islands  as  to  the  French 
settlements  on  the  continent  in  America,  and  particularly  to 
the  rivers  Mobile  and  Mississippi ;  by  which  the  enemies,  to  the 
great  reproach  and  detriment  of  government,  are  supplied  with 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  207 

Her  towns   with   trade,   with   fleets   her   harbours 

crown'd, 

And  plenty  smiling  on  her  plains  around ; 
Thus  blest  with,  all  that  commerce  could  supply, 
America  regards  with  jealous  eye, 


provisions  and  other  necessaries;  whereby  they  are  principally, 
if  not  alone,  enabled  to  sustain  and  protract  this  long  and  ex- 
pensive war.  And  it  further  appearing,  that  large  sums  of 
bullion  are  sent  by  the  king's  subjects  to  the  above  places,  in 
return  whereof  commodities  are  taken,  which  interfere  with  the 
product  of  the  British  colonies  themselves,  in  open  contempt 
of  the  authority  of  the  mother-country,  as  well  as  the  most 
manifest  prejudice  of  the  manufacturers  and  trade  of  Great 
Britain:  in  order,  therefore,  to  put  the  most  speedy  and  effectual 
stop  to  such  flagitious  practices,  so  utterly  subversive  of  all  laws, 
and  so  highly  repugnant  to  the  well-being  of  this  kingdom : 

"It  is  his  majesty's  express  will  and  pleasure,  that  you  do 
forthwith  make  the  strictest  and  most  diligent  inquiry  into  the 
state  of  this  dangerous  and  ignominious  trade;  and  that  you  do 
use  every  means  in  your  power  to  detect  and  discover  persons 
concerned  either  as  principals  or  accessaries  therein ;  and  that 
you  do  take  every  step  authorized  by  law  to  bring  all  such 
heinous  offenders  to  the  most  exemplary  and  condign  punish- 
ment :  and  you  will,  as  soon  as  may  be,  and  from  time  to  time 
transmit  to  me,  for  the  king's  information,  full  and  particular 
accounts  of  the  progress  you  shall  have  made  in  the  execution 
of  this  his  majesty's  commands,  to  the  which  the  king  expects 
that  you  pay  the  most  exact  obedience.  And  you  are  further  to 
use  your  utmost  endeavours  to  trace  out  and  investigate  the 
various  artifices  and  evasions  by  which  the  dealers  in  this  ini- 
quitious  intercourse  find  means  to  cover  their  criminal  proceed- 
ings, and  to  elude  the  law;  in  order  that  from  such  lights  due 
and  timely  considerations  may  be  had  what  further  provision 
may  be  necessary  to  restrain  an  evil  of  such  extensive  and  per- 
nicious consequences.  I  am,  &c." 


208  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

And  canker'd  heart,  the  parent,  who  so  late 
Had  snatch'd  her  gasping  from  the  jaws  of  fate  ; 
Who  now,  with  wars  for  her  begun,  relax'd, 
"With  grievous  aggravated  burdens  tax'd, 
Her  treasures  wasted  by  a  hungry  brood 
Of  cormorants,  that  suck  her  vital  blood ; 
Who  now  of  her  demands  that  tribute  due, 
For  whom  alone  the  avenging  sword  she  drew. 

Scarce  had  America  the  just  request 
Received,  when  kindling  in  her  faithless  breast 
Resentment  glows,  enraged  sedition  burns, 
And,  lo !  the  mandate  of  our  laws  she  spurns ! 
Her  secret  hate,  incapable  of  shame 
Or  gratitude,  incenses  to  a  flame, 
Derides  our  power,  bids  insurrection  rise, 
Insults  our  honour,  and  our  laws  defies ; 
O'er  all  her  coasts  is  heard  the  audacious  roar, 
"  England  shall  rule  America  no  more  ! " 

Soon  as  on  Britain's  shore  the  alarm  was  heard, 
Stern  indignation  in  her  look  appear'd ; 
Yet,  loth  to  punish,  she  her  scourge  withheld 
From  her  perfidious  sons  who  thus  rebell'd  : 
Now  stung  with  anguish,  now  with  rage  assail'd, 
Till  pity  in  her  soul  at  last  prevail'd, 
Determined  not  to  draw  her  penal  steel 
Till  fair  persuasion  made  her  last  appeal. 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  209 

And  now  the  great  decisive  hour  drew  nigh, 
She  on  her  darling  patriot  cast  her  eye ; 
His  voice  like  thunder  will  support  her  cause, 
Enforce  her  dictates,  and  sustain  her  laws ; 
Rich  with  her  spoils,  his  sanction  will  dismay, 
And  bid  the  insurgents  tremble  and  obey. 

He    comes !  —  but    where,   the    amazing    theme 

to  hit, 

Discover  language  or  ideas  fit  ? 
Splay-footed  words,  that  hector,  bounce,  and  swag- 
ger, 

The  sense  to  puzzle,  and  the  brain  to  stagger  ? 
Our  patriot  comes !  with  frenzy  fired,  the  muse 
With  allegoric  eye  his  figure  views ! 
Like  the  grim  portress  of  hell-gate  he  stands, 
Bellona's  scourge  hangs  trembling  in  his  hands ! 
Around  him,  fiercer  than  the  ravenous  shark, 
"  A  cry  of  hell-hounds'  never-ceasing  bark ! " 
And  lo  !  the  enormous  giant  to  bedeck, 
A  golden  millstone  hangs  upon  his  neck ! 
On  him  ambition's  vulture  darts  her  claws, 
And  with  voracious  rage  his  liver  gnaws. 
Our  patriot  comes  !  —  the  buckles  of  whose  shoes 
Not  Cromwell's  self  was  worthy  to  unloose. 
Repeat  his  name  in  thunder  to  the  skies ! 
14 


210  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

Ye  hills  fall  prostrate,  and  ye  vales  arise ! 
Through  faction's  wilderness  prepare  the  way ! 
Prepare,  ye  listening  senates,  to  obey ! 
The  idol  of  the  mob,  behold  him  stand, 
The  alpha  and  omega  of  the  land ! 

Methinks  I  hear  the  bellowing  demagogue 
Dumb-sounding  declamations  disembogue, 
Expressions  of  immeasurable  length, 
Where  pompous  jargon  fills  the  place  of  strength ; 
Where  fulminating,  rumbling  eloquence, 
With  loud  theatric  rage,  bombards  the  sense ; 
And  words,  deep  rank'd  in  horrible  array, 
Exasperated  metaphors  convey ! 
With  these  auxiliaries,  drawn  up  at  large, 
He  bids  enraged  sedition  beat  the  charge ; 
From  England's  sanguine  hope  his  aid  withdraws, 
And  lists  to  guide  in  insurrection's  cause. 
And  lo  !  where,  in  her  sacrilegious  hand, 
The  parricide  lifts  high  her  burning  brand ! 
Go,  while  she  yet  suspends  her  impious  aim, 
With  those  infernal  lungs  arouse  the  flame  ! 
Though  England  merits  not  her  least  regard, 
Thy  friendly  voice  gold  boxes  shall  reward ! 
Arise,  embark  !  prepare  thy  martial  car, 
To  lead  her  armies  and  provoke  the  war ! 


THE    DEMAGOGUE.  211 

Rebellion  wakes,  impatient  of  delay, 
The  signal  her  black  ensigns  to  display.* 

To  thee,  whose  soul,  all  steadfast  and  serene, 
Beholds  the  tumults  that  distract  our  scene 
And,  in  the  calmer  seats  of  wisdom  placed, 
Enjoys  the  sweets  of  sentiment  and  taste ; 
To  thee,  O  Marius !  whom  no  factions  sway, 
The  impartial  muse  devotes  her  honest  lay ! 


*  Luca  Pitt  continued  at  Florence,  presuming  upon  his  late 

alliance,  and  the  promises  which  Pietro  had  made  him ; 

But  amongst  all  the  changes  that  ensued  upon  this  revolution, 
nothing  was  more  remarkable  than  the  case  of  Luca  Pitt,  who 
soon  began  to  experience  the  difference  betwixt  prosperity  and 
adversity,  betwixt  living  in  authority  and  falling  into  disgrace. 
His  house,  which  used  to  be  crowded  with  swarms  of  followers 
and  dependants,  was  now  as  unfrequented  as  a  desert ;  and  his 
friends  and  relations  were  not  only  afraid  of  being  seen  with 
him,  but  durst  not  even  salute  him  if  they  met  him  in  the  street; 
some  of  them  having  been  deprived  of  their  honours,  others  of 
their  estates,  and  all  of  them  threatened. 

The  magnificent  palaces  which  he  had  begun  to  build  were 
abandoned  by  the  workmen ;  the  services  he  had  formerly  done 
to  any  one  were  requited  with  injuries  and  abuse;  and  the 
honours  he  had  conferred,  with  infamy  and  taunts.  Many  who 
had  made  him  valuable  presents,  now  came  to  demand  them 
again,  as  only  lent;  and  others,  who  before  used  to  flatter  and 
extol  him  to  the  skies,  in  these  circumstances,  loaded  him  with 
contumely,  and  reproaches  of  ingratitude,  and  violence ;  so  that 
he  heartily  repented,  though  too  late,  that  he  had  not  followed 
Nicolo  Soderini's  advice,  and  preferred  an  honourable  death  to  a 
life  of  ignominy  and  contempt. — Mach.  Hist.  Flor. 


212  THE    DEMAGOGUE. 

In  her  fond  breast  no  prostituted  aim, 
Nor  venal  hope,  assumes  fair  friendship's  name : 
Sooner  shall  Churchill's  feeble  meteor-ray, 
That  led  our  foundering  demagogue  astray, 
Darkling  to  grope  and  flounce  in  error's  night, 
Eclipse  great  Mansfield's  strong  meridian  light, 
Than  shall  the  change  of  fortune,  time,  or  place, 
Thy  generous  friendship  in  my  heart  efface ! 
0  !  whether  wandering  from  thy  country  far, 
And  plunged  amid  the  murdering  scenes  of  war ; 
Or  in  the  blest  retreat  of  virtue  laid, 
Where  contemplation  spreads  her  awful  shade ; 
If  ever  to  forget  thee  I  have  power, 
May  Heaven  desert  me  at  my  latest  hour ! 
Still  satire  bids  my  bosom  beat  to  arms, 
And  throb  with  irresistible  alarms. 
Like  some  full  river  charged  with  falling  showers, 
Still  o'er  my  breast  her  swelling  deluge  pours. 
But  rest  and  silence  now,  who  wait  beside, 
With  their  strong  flood-gates  bar  the  impetuous  tide. 


A    POEM, 

SACRED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS 
FREDERIC  PRIXCE   OF  WALES. 

FROM  the  big  horror  of  war's  hoarse  alarms, 
And  the  tremendous  clang  of  clashing  arms, 
Descend,  my  muse !  a  deeper  scene  to  draw 
(A  scene  will  hold  the  listening  world  in  awe)* 
Is  my  intent :  Melpomene  inspire, 
While,  with  sad  notes,  I  strike  the  trembling  lyre  ! 
And  may  my  lines  with  easy  motion  flow, 
Melt  as  they  move,  and  fill  each  heart  with  woe : 
Big  with  the  sorrow  it  describes,  my  song, 
In  solemn  pomp,  majestic,  move  along. 
Oh !  bear  me  to  some  awful  silent  glade 
Where  cedars  form  an  unremitting  shade  ; 
Where  never  track  of  human  feet  was  known ; 
Where  never  cheerful  light  of  Phoebus  shone ; 
Where  chirping  linnets  warble  tales  of  love, 

*  By  awe,  here,  is  meant  attention. 


214  TO    THE    MEMORY    OF 

And  hoarser  winds  howl  murmuring  thro'  the  grove  ; 
"Where  some  unhappy  wretch  aye  mourns  his  doom, 
Deep  melancholy  wandering  through  the  gloom ; 
Where  solitude  and  meditation  roam, 
And  where  no  dawning  glimpse  of  hope  can  come ; 
Place  me  in  such  an  unfrequented  shade, 
To  speak  to  none  but  with  the  mighty  dead : 
To  assist  the  pouring  rains  with  brimful  eyes, 
And  aid  hoarse  howling  Boreas  with  my  sighs. 

When  winter's  horrors  left  Britannia's  isle, 
And  spring  in  blooming  verdure  'gan  to  smile ; 
When  rills,  unbound,  began  to  purl  along, 
And  warbling  larks  renew'd  the  vernal  song ; 
When  sprouting  roses,  deck'd  in  crimson  dye, 

Began  to  bloom, 

Hard  fate  !  then,  noble  Frederic,  didst  thou  die  : 

Doom'd  by  inexorable  fate's  decree, 

The  approaching  summer  ne'er  on  earth  to  see ; 

In  thy  parch'd  vitals  burning  fevers  rage, 

Whose  flame  the  virtue  of  ho  herbs  assuage  ; 

No  cooling  medicine  can  its  heat  allay, 

Relentless  destiny  cries,  "  No  delay." 

Ye  powers !  and  must  a  prince  so  noble  die  ? 

(Whose  equal  breathes  not  under  the  ambient  sky :) 

Ah !  must  he  die,  then,  in  youth's  full-blown  prime, 

Cut  by  the  scythe  of  all-devouring  time  ? 


THE   PRINCE    OF    WALES.  215 

Yes,  fate  has  doom'd  !v  his  soul  now  leaves  its  weight, 

And  all  are  under  the  decree  of  fate ; 

The  irrevocable  doom  of  destiny 

Pronounced,  "  Ah1  mortals  must  submissive  die." 

The  princes  wait  around  with  weeping  eyes, 

And  the  dome  echoes  all  with  piercing  cries ; 

With  doleful  noise  the  matrons  scream  around, 

With  female  shrieks  the  vaulted  roofs  rebound : 

A  dismal  noise  !    Now  one  promiscuous  roar 

Cries,  "  Ah !  the  noble  Frederic  is  no  more ! " 

The  chief  reluctant  yields  his  latest  breath ; 

His  eye-lids  settle  in  the  shades  of  death : 

Dark  sable  shades  present  before  each  eye, 

And  the  deep  vast  abyss,  eternity  ! 

Through  perpetuity's  expanse  he  springs  ; 

And  o'er  the  vast  profound  he  shoots  on  wings : 

The  soul  to  distant  regions  steers  her  flight, 

And  sails  incumbent  on  inferior  night : 

With  vast  celerity  she  shoots  away, 

And  meets  the  regions  of  eternal  day, 

To  shine  for  ever  in  the  heavenly  birth, 

And  leave  the  body  here  to  rot  on  earth. 

The  melancholy  patriots  round  it  wait, 

And  mourn  the  royal  hero's  timeless  fate. 

Disconsolate  they  move,  a  mournful  band ! 

In  solemn  pomp  they  march  along  the  strand : 


216  TO    THE    MEMORY    OP 

The  noble  chief,  interr'd  in  youthful  bloom, 
Lies  in  the  dreary  regions  of  the  tomb. 
Adown  Augusta's  pallid  visage  flow 
The  living  pearls  with  unaffected  woe  : 
Disconsolate,  hapless,  see  pale  Britain  mourn, 
AbandonM  isle  !  forsaken  and  forlorn  ! 
With  desperate  hands  her  bleeding  breast  she  beats  ; 
While  o'er  her,  frowning,  grim  destruction  threats. 
She  mourns  with  heart-felt  grief,  she  rends  her  hair, 
And  fills  with  piercing  cries  the  echoing  air. 
Well  may'st  thou  mourn  thy  patriot's  timeless  end, 
Thy  muse's  patron,  and  thy  merchant's  friend. 
What  heart  shall  pity  thy  full-flowing  grief? 
What  hand  now  deign  to  give  thy  poor  relief? 
To  encourage  arts,  whose  bounty  now  shall  flow, 
And  learned  science  to  promote,  bestow  ? 
Who  now  protect  thee  from  the  hostile  frown,- 
And  to  the  injured  just  return  his  own  ? 
From  usury  and  oppression  who  shall  guard 
The  helpless,  and  the  threatening  ruin  ward  ? 
Alas  !  the  truly  noble  Briton 's  gone, 
And  left  us  here  in  ceaseless  woe  to  moan ! 
Impending  desolation  hangs  around, 
And  ruin  hovers  o'er  the  trembling  ground : 
The  blooming  spring  droops  her  enamell'd  head, 
Her  glories  wither,  and  her  flowers  all  fade : 


THE    PRIXCE    OP    WALES.  217 

The  sprouting  leaves  already,  drop  away ; 
Languish  the  living  herbs  with  pale  decay : 
The  bowing  trees,  see !  o'er  the  blasted  heath, 
Depending,  bend  beneath  the  weight  of  death : 
"Wrapp'd  in  the  expansive  gloom,  the  lightnings  play, 
Hoarse  thunder  mutters  through  the  aerial  way : 
All  nature  feels  the  pangs,  the  storms  renew, 
And  sprouts,  with  fatal  haste,  the  baleful  yew. 

Some  power  avert  the  threatening  horrid  weight, 
And,  godlike,  prop  Britannia's  sinking  state ! 
Minerva,  hover  o'er  young  George's  soul ; 
May  sacred  wisdom  all  his  deeds  control ! 
Exalted  grandeur  in  each  action  shine, 
His  conduct  all  declare  the  youth  divine. 

Methinks  I  see  him  shine  a  glorious  star, 
Gentle  in  peace,  but  terrible  in  war ! 
Methinks  each  region  does  his  praise  resound, 
And  nations  tremble  at  his  name  around ! 
His  fame,  through  every  distant  kingdom  rung, 
Proclaims  him  of  the  race  from  whence  he  sprung : 
So  sable  smoke,  in  volumes  curls  on  high, 
Heaps  roll  on  heaps,  and  blacken  all  the  sky : 
Already  so,  his  fame,  methinks,  is  hurl'd 
Around  the  admiring  venerating  world. 
So  the  benighted  wanderer,  on  his  way, 
Laments  the  absence  of  all-cheering  day ; 


218  THE    PRINCE    OF    WALES. 

Far  distant  from  his  friends  and  native  home, 
And  not  one  glimpse  does  glimmer  thro'  the  gloom : 
In  thought  he  breathes,  each  sigh  his  latest  breath, 
Present,  each  meditation,  pits  of  death : 
Irregular,  -wild  chimeras  fill  his  soul, 
And  death,  and  dying,  every  step  control. 
Till  from  the  east  there  breaks  a  purple  gleam, 
His  fears  then  vanish  as  a  fleeting  dream. 
Hid  in  a  cloud  the  sun  first  shoots  his  ray, 
Then  breaks  effulgent  on  the  illumined  day ; 
"We  see  no  spot  then  in  the  flaming  rays, 
Confused  and  lost  within  the  excessive  blaze. 


ODE    ON    THE    DUKE    OF    YOKE'S    SECOND 

DEPARTURE   FROM    ENGLAND 

AS   REAR  ADMIRAL.      WRITTEN   ABOARD   THE 
ROYAL   GEORGE. 

AGAIN  the  royal  streamers  play ! 

To  glory  Edward  hastes  away ; 
Adieu,  ye  happy  silvan  bowers, 

"Where  pleasure's  sprightly  throng  await ! 
Ye  domes,  where  regal  grandeur  towers 

In  purple  ornaments  of  state ! 

Ye  scenes  where  virtue's  sacred  strain 

Bids  the  tragic  muse  complain ! 

Where  satire  treads  the  comic  stage, 

To  scourge  and  mend  a  venal  age ; 
Where  music  pours  the  soft,  melodious  lay, 
And  melting  symphonies  congenial  play ! 
Ye  silken  sons  of  ease,  who  dwell 
In  flowery  vales  of  peace,  farewell ! 

In  vain  the  goddess  of  the  myrtle  grove 
Her  charms  ineffable  displays ; 

In  vain  she  calls  to  happier  realms  of  love, 
Which  Spring's  unfading  bloom  arrays : 


220  ODE. 

In  vain  her  living  roses  blow, 
And  ever-vernal  pleasures  grow ; 
The  gentle  sports  of  youth  no  more 
Allure  him  to  the  peaceful  shore : 
Arcadian  ease  no  longer  charms, 

For  war  and  fame  alone  can  please. 
His  throbbing  bosom  beats  to  arms, 
To  war  the  hero  moves,  thro'  storms  and  wintry  seas. 

CHORUS. 

The  gentle  sports  of  youth  no  more 
Allure  him  to  the  peaceful  shore, 
For  war  and  fame  alone  can  please ; 
To  war  the  hero  moves,  thro'  storms  and  wintry  seas. 

Though  danger's  hostile  train  appears 

To  thwart  the  course  that  honour  steers ; 

Unmoved  he  leads  the  rugged  way, 

Despising  peril  and  dismay : 

His  country  calls ;  to  guard  her  laws, 
Lo !  every  joy  the  gallant  youth  resigns ;  * 

The  avenging  naval  sword  he  draws, 
And  o'er  the  waves  conducts  her  martial  lines : 

Hark !  his  sprightly  clarions  play ; 

Follow  where  he  leads  the  way ! 


ODE.  221 

The  piercing  fife,  the  sounding  drum, 
Tell  the  deeps  their  master's  come. 

CHORUS. 

Hark !  his  sprightly  clarions  play, 
Follow  where  he  leads  the  way  ! 
The  piercing  fife,  the  sounding  drum, 
Tell  the  deeps  their  master 's  come. 

Thus  Alcmena's  warlike  son 
The  thorny  course  of  virtue  run, 
When,  taught  by  her  unerring  voice, 

He  made  the  glorious  choice : 
Severe,  indeed,  the  attempt  he  knew, 
Youth's  genial  ardours  to  subdue : 
For  pleasure,  Venus'  lovely  form  assumed ; 

Her  glowing  charms,  divinely  bright, 
In  all  the  pride  of  beauty  bloom'd, 
And  struck  his  ravish'd  sight. 
Transfix'd,  amazed, 
Alcides  gazed : 
Enchanting  grace 
Adorn'd  her  face, 
And  all  his  changing  looks  confest 
The  alternate  passions  in  his  breast : 
Her  swelling  bosom  half  reveal'd, 


222  ODE. 

Her  eyes  that  kindling  raptures  fir'd, 
A  thousand  tender  pains  instill'd, 

A  thousand  flatt'ring  thoughts  inspired  : 
Persuasion's  sweetest  language  hung 
In  melting  accent  on  her  tongue : 
Deep  in  his  heart,  the  winning  tale 

Infused  a  magic  power ; 
She  prest  him  to  the  rosy  vale, 

And  show'd  the  Elysian  bower : 
Her  hand,  that  trembling  ardours  move, 
Conducts  him  blushing  to  the  blest  alcove  : 
Ah !  see,  o'erpower'd  by  beauty's  charms, 
And  won  by  love's  resistless  arms, 
The  captive  yields  to  nature's  soft  alarms ! 

CHORUS. 

Ah !  see,  o'erpower'd  by  beauty's  charms, 
And  won  by  love's  resistless  arms, 
The  captive  yields  to  nature's  soft  alarms ! 

Assist,  ye  guardian  powers  above  ! 
From  ruin  save  the  son  of  Jove  ! 
By  heavenly  mandate  virtue  came, 

And  check'd  the  fatal  flame : 
Swift  as  the  quivering  needle  wheels, 
Whose  point  the  magnet's  influence  feels, 


ODE.  223 

Inspired  with  awe, 
He,  turning,  saw 
The  nymph  divine 
Transcendent  shine ; 
And,  while  he  view'd  the  godlike  maid, 
His  heart  a  sacred  impulse  sway'd : 
His  eyes  with  ardent  motion  roll, 
And  love,  regret,  and  hope,  divide  his  soul. 
But  soon  her  words  his  pain  destroy, 
And  all  the  numbers  of  his  heart, 
Return'd  by  her  celestial  art, 
Now  swell'd  to  strains  of  nobler  joy. 
Instructed  thus  by  virtue's  lore, 
His  happy  steps  the  realms  explore 
Where  guilt  and  error  are  no  more : 
The  clouds  that  veil'd  his  intellectual  ray, 
Before  his  breath  dispelling,  melt  away : 
Broke  loose  from  pleasure's  glittering  chain, 
He  scorn'd  her  soft  inglorious  reign : 
Convinced,  resolved,  to  virtue  then  he  turn'd. 
And  in  his  breast  paternal  glory  burn'd. 

CHORUS. 

Broke  loose  from  pleasure's  glittering  chain, 
He  scorn'd  her  soft  inglorious  reign : 


224  ODE. 

Convinced,  resolved,  to  virtue  then  he  turn'd, 
And  in  his  breast  paternal  glory  burn'd. 

So  when  on  Britain's  other  hope  she  shone, 
Like  him  the  royal  youth  she  won : 
Thus  taught,  he  bids  his  fleets  advance 
To  curb  the  power  of  Spain  and  France : 
Aloft  his  martial  ensigns  flow, 
And  hark !  his  brazen  trumpets  blow  ! 

The  watery  profound, 

Awaked  by  the  sound, 

All  trembles  around : 
While  Edward  o'er  the  azure  fields 

Fraternal  wonder  wields : 
High  on  the  deck  behold  he  stands, 
And  views  around  his  floating  bands 

In  awful  order  join  : 

They,  while  the  warlike  trumpet's  strain, 
Deep  sounding  swells  along  the  main, 

Extend  the  embattled  line. 
Then  Britain  triumphantly  saw 

His  armament  ride 

Supreme  on  the  tide, 
And  o'er  the  vast  ocean  give  law. 


ODE.  225 

CHORUS. 

Then  Britain  triumphantly  saw 

His  armament  ride 

Supreme  on  the  tide, 
And  o'er  the  vast  ocean  give  law. 

Now  with  shouting  peals  of  joy, 

The  ships  their  horrid  tubes  display, 
Tier  over  tier  in  terrible  array, 

And  wait  the  signal  to  destroy : 
The  sails  all  burn  to  engage : 

Hark !  hark !  their  shouts  arise, 

And  shake  the  vaulted  skies  ! 
Exulting  with  bacchanal  rage. 
Then,  Neptune,  the  hero  revere, 

"Whose  power  is  superior  to  thine ! 
And,  when  his  proud  squadrons  appear, 

The  trident  and  chariot  resign !    . 

CHORUS. 

Then,  Neptune,  the  hero  revere, 
Whose  power  is  superior  to  thine  ! 

And,  when  his  proud  squadrons  appear, 
The  trident  and  chariot  resign ! 


15 


22G  ODE. 

Albion,  wake  thy  grateful  voice  ! 
Let  thy  hills  and  vales  rejoice : 
O'er  remotest  hostile  regions 

Thy  victorious  flags  are  known ; 
Thy  resistless  martial  legions 

Dreadful  move  from  zone  to  zone ; 
Thy  flaming  bolts  unerring  roll, 
And  all  the  trembling  globe  control : 
Thy  seamen,  invincibly  true, 
No  menace,  no  fraud,  can  subdue : 
To  thy  great  trust 
Severely  just, 

All  dissonant  strife  they  disclaim : 
To  meet  the  foe, 
Their  bosoms  glow ; 
Who  only  are  rivals  in  fame. 

CHORUS. 

Thy^seamen,  invincibly  true, 
No  menace,  no  fraud  can  subdue : 
All  dissonant  strife  they  disclaim, 
And  only  are  rivals  in  fame. 

For  Edward  tune  your  harps,  ye  Nine ! 
Triumphant  strike  each  living  string, 


ODE.  227 

For  him,  in  ecstasy  divine, 

Your  choral  lo  Pteans  sing ! 
For  him  your  festive  concerts  breathe ! 
For  him  your  flowery  garlands  wreathe  I 

TVake  !  O  wake  the  joyful  song ! 
Ye  fauns  of  the  woods, 
Ye  nymphs  of  the  floods, 

The  musical  ctirrent  prolong ! 
Ye  sylvans,  that  dance  on  the  plain, 

To  swell  the  grand  chorus  accord ! 
Ye  tritons,  that  sport  on  the  main, 

Exulting,  acknowledge  your  lord ! 
Till  all  the  wild  numbers  combined, 

That  floating  proclaim 

Our  admiral's  name, 
In  symphony  roll  on  the  wind ! 

CHORUS. 

Wake !  O  wake  the  joyful  song ! 
Ye  sylvans,  that  dance  on  the  plain, 
Ye  tritons,  that  sport  on  the  main, 
The  musical  current  prolong ! 

O !  while  consenting  Britons  praise, 
These  votive  measures  deign  to  hear ! 


228  ODE. 

For  thee  my  muse  awakes  her  lays, 
For  thee  the  unequal  viol  plays, 
The  tribute  of  a  soul  sincere. 
Nor  thou,  illustrious  chief,  refuse 
The  incense  of  a  nautic  muse ! 
For  ah !  to  whom  shall  Neptune's  sons  complain, 
But  him  whose  arms  unrivaU'd  rule  the  main  ? 
Deep  on  my  grateful  breast 
Thy  favour  is  imprest : 
No  happy  son  of  wealth  or  fame 
To  court  a  royal  patron  came !  • 
A  hapless  youth,  whose  vital  page 
Was  one  sad  lengthen'd  tale  of  woe, 

Where  ruthless  fate,  impelling  tides  of  rage, 
Bade  wave  on  wave  in  dire  succession  flow, 
To  glittering  stars  and  titled  names  unknown, 
Preferr'd  his  suit  to  thee  alone. 
The  tale  your  sacred  pity  moved ; 
You  felt,  consented,  and  approved. 
Then  touch  my  strings,  ye  blest  Pierian  quire ! 

Exalt  to  rapture  every  happy  line ! 
My  bosom  kindle  with  Promethean  fire ! 
And  swell  each  note  with  energy  divine. 
No  more  to  plaintive  sounds  of  woe 
Let  the  vocal  numbers  flow ! 


ODE.  229 

Perhaps  the  chief  to  whom  I  sing 

^ 

May  yet  ordain  auspicious  days, 

To  wake  the  lyre  with  nobler  lays, 
And  tune  to  war  the  nervous  string. 
For  who,  untaught  in  Neptune's  school, 
Though  all  the  powers  of  genius  he  possess, 
Though  disciplined  by  classic  rule, 

"With  daring  pencil  can  display 
The  fight  that  thunders  on  the  watery  way, 

And  all  its  horrid  incidents  express  ? 
To  him,  my  muse,  these  warlike  strains  belong ! 
Source  of  thy  hope,  and  patron  of  thy  song. 

CHORUS. 

To  him,  my  muse,  these  warh'ke  strains  belong ! 
Source  of  thy  hope,  and  patron  of  thy  song. 


THE  FOXD  LOVER. 


A  BALLAD. 


A  NYMPH  of  every  charm  possess'd, 

That  native  virtue  gives, 
Within  my  bosom  all  confess'd, 

In  bright  idea  lives. 
For  her  my  trembling  numbers  play 

Along  the  pathless  deep, 
While  sadly  social  with  my  lay 

The  winds  in  concert  weep. 

If  beauty's  sacred  influence  charms 

The  rage  of  adverse  fate, 
Say  why  the  pleasing  soft  alarms 

Such  cruel  pangs  create  ? 
Since  all  her  thoughts  by  sense  refined, 

Unartful  truth  express, 
Say  wherefore  sense  and  truth  are  join'd 

To  give  my  soul  distress  ? 

If  when  her  blooming  lips  I  press, 
Which  vernal  fragrance  fills, 

Through  all  my  veins  the  sweet  excess 
In  trembling  motion  thrills ; 


THE    FOND    LOVER.  231 

Say  whence  this  secret  anguish  grows, 

Congenial  with,  my  joy  ? 
And  why  the  touch,  where  pleasure  glows 

Should  vital  peace  destroy  ? 

If  when  my  fair,  in  melting  song, 

Awakes  the  vocal  lay, 
Not  all  your  notes,  ye  Phocian  throng, 

Such  pleasing  sounds  convey ; 
Thus  wrapt  ah1  o'er  with  fondest  love, 

Why  heaves  this  broken  sigh  ? 
For  then  my  blood  forgets  to  move, 

I  gaze,  adore,  and  die. 

Accept,  my  charming  maid,  the  strain 

Which  you  alone  inspire  ; 
To  thee  the  dying  strings  complain 

That  quiver  on  my  lyre. 
O !  give  this  bleeding  bosom  ease, 

That  knows  no  joy  but  thee ; 
Teach  me  thy  happy  art  to  please, 

Or  deign  to  love  like  me. 


ON  THE  UNCOMMON  SCARCITY  OF  POETRY 

IN  THE  GENTLEMAN'S  MAGAZINE  FOR  DECEMBER 
LAST,  1755,  BY  I.  W.,  A  SAILOR. 

THE  springs  of  Helicon  can  winter  bind, 
And  chill  the  fervour  of  a  poet's  mind  ? 
What  though  the  lowering  skies  and  driving  storm 
The  scenes  of  nature  wide  around  deform, 
The  birds  no  longer  sing,  nor  roses  blow, 
And  all  the  landscape  lies  conceal'd  hi  snow ; 
Yet  rigid  winter  still  is  known  to  spare 
The  brighter  beauties  of  the  lovely  fair : 
Ye  lovely  fair,  your  sacred  influence  bring, 
And  with  your  smiles  anticipate  the  spring. 
Yet  what  avails  the  smiles  of  lovely  maids, 
Or  vernal  suns  that  glad  the  flowery  glades ; 
The  wood's  green  foliage,  or  the  varying  scene 
Of  fields  and  lawns,  and  gliding  streams  between, 
What,  to  the  wretch  whom  harder  fates  ordain, 
Through  the  long  year  to  plough  the  stormy  main ! 
No  murmuring  streams,  no  sound  of  distant  sheep, 
Or  song  of  birds  invite  his  eyes  to  sleep  : 


ON   THE    SCARCITY   OF   POETRY.  233 

By  toil  exhausted,  when  he  sinks  to  rest, 
Beneath  his  sun-burijt  head  no  flowers  are  prest : 
Down  on  his  deck  his  fainting  limbs  are  laid, 
No  spreading  trees  dispense  their  cooling  shade, 
No  zephyrs  round  his  aching  temples  play, 
No  fragrant  breezes  noxious  heats  allay. 
The  rude  rough  wind  which  stern  JEolus  sends, 
Drives  on  in  blasts,  and  while  it  cools,  offends. 
He  wakes,  but  hears  no  music  from  the  grove ; 
No  varied  landscape  courts  his  eye  to  rove. 
O'er  the  wide  main  he  looks  to  distant  skies, 
"Where  nought  but  waves  on  rolling  waves  arise  ; 
The  boundless  view  fatigues  his  aching  sight, 
Nor  yields  his  eye  one  object  of  delight. 
No  "  female  face  divine  "  with  cheering  smiles, 
The  lingering  hours  of  dangerous  toil  beguiles. 
Yet  distant  beauty  oft  his  genius  fires, 
And  oft  with  love  of  sacred  song  inspires. 
E'en  I,  the  least  of  all  the  tuneful  train, 
On  the  rough  ocean  try  this  artless  strain, 
Rouse  then,  ye  bards,  who  happier  fortunes  prove, 
And  tune  the  lyre  to  nature  or  to  love. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  A  NINETY  GUN  SHIP, 
FROM  THE  GEKTLEMAN'S  MAGAZINE,  MAY,  1759. 

AMIDST  a  wood  of  oaks  with  canvas  leaves, 
Which  form'd  a  floating  forest  on  the  waves, 
There  stood  a  tower,  whose  vast  stupendous  size 
Rear'd  its  huge  mast,  and  seem'd  to  gore  the  skies, 
From  which  a  bloody  pendant  stretch'd  afar 
Its  comet-tail,  denouncing  ample  war ; 
Two  younger  giants  *  of  inferior  height 
Display'd  their  sporting  streamers  to  the  sight : 
The  base  below,  another  island  rose, 
To  pour  Britannia's  thunder  on  her  foes : 
With  bulk  immense,  like  JEtna,  she  surveys 
Above  the  rest,  the  lesser  Cyclades : 
Profuse  of  gold,  in  lustre  like  the  sun, 
Splendid  with  regal  luxury  she  shone, 
Lavish  in  wealth,  luxuriant  in  her  pride, 
Behold  the  gilded  mass  exulting  ride ! 
Her  curious  prow  divides  the  silver  waves, 
In  the  salt  ooze  her  radiant  sides  she  laves, 

*  Fore  and  mizzen  masts. 


DESCRIPTION    OF   A   NINETY    GUN    SHIP.      235 

From  stem  to  stern,  her  wondrous  length  survey, 
Rising  a  beauteous  Venus  from  the  sea ; 
Her  stem,  with  naval  drapery  engraved, 
Show'd  mimic  warriors,  who  the  tempest  braved  j 
"Whose  visage  fierce  defied  the  lashing  surge, 
Of  Gallic  pride  the  emblematic  scourge. 
Tremendous  figures,  lo !  her  stern  displays, 
And  hold  a  pharos  *  of  distinguish'd  blaze ; 
By  night  it  shines  a  star  of  brightest  form, 
To  point  her  way,  and  light  her  through  the  storm : 
See  dread  engagements  pictured  to  the  life, 
See  admirals  maintain  the  glorious  strife : 
Here  breathing  images  in  painted  ire, 
Seem  for  their  country's  freedom  to  expire ; 
Victorious  fleets  the  flying  fleets  pursue, 
Here  strikes  a  ship,  and  there  exults  a  crew : 
A  frigate  here  blows  up  with  hideous  glare, 
And  adds  fresh  terrors  to  the  bleeding  war. 
But  leaving  feigned  ornaments,  behold ! 
Eight  hundred  youths  of  heart  and  sinew  bold, 
Mount  up  her  shrouds,  or  to  her  tops  ascend, 
Some  haul  her  braces,  some  her  foresail  bend ; 
Full  ninety  brazen  guns  her  port-holes  fill, 
Ready  with  nitrous  magazines  to  kill, 

*  Her  poop  lanthorn. 


236      DESCRIPTION    OF   A   NINETY    GUN    SHIP. 

From  dread  embrasures  formidably  peep, 
And  seem  to  threaten  ruin  to  the  deep ; 
On  pivots  fix'd,  the  well-ranged  swivels  lie, 
Or  to  point  downward,  or  to  brave  the  sky  ; 
While  peteraroes  swell  with  infant  rage, 
Prepared,  though  small,  with  fury  to  engage. 
Thus  arm'd,  may  Britain  long  her  state  maintain, 
And  with  triumphant  navies  rule  the  mam. 


THE    END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


alif 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  A      000264111    6 


